


We Could Take the World

by h-uxed (disappearingcheshire)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Rimming, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappearingcheshire/pseuds/h-uxed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various Kylux drabbles and prompt fills.</p><p>#09: The Bachelor AU<br/>#11: The Knights of Ren vs Hux's Sexual Frustration<br/>#12: Kylo enjoys making a mess of the General<br/>#13: Begging<br/>#15: In which Kylo’s attempts at phone sex don’t quite go as planned.<br/>#16: The one where Kylo smokes cigarettes instead of going to class and Hux is the nerd who just won’t take no for an answer.<br/>#17: The cadet uniform fits like a glove.<br/>#18: General Ren is just as Hux remembers him. (role reversal)<br/>#19: Jealousy<br/>#20: Meeting in Prison<br/>#21: In which Kylo is an MMA fighter, Phasma is his coach, and Hux is the yoga instructor with an ass that just won’t quit.<br/>#22: <em>Vegas AU where they do an impromptu marriage.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. demasked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which kylo ren takes for granted that there are some vibes even non-force users can pick up on  
> 

Kylo tries to imagine it once, during a particularly boring shift on the bridge. He watches Hux travel around the room, his posture rigid even while bent over the monitors, and suddenly pities anyone foolish enough to try having sex with the man.  
  
Propped against a console, his face hidden by his mask, Kylo gives an idle once over to the figure tucked beneath a coat. Hux is indecipherable through his layers, but the fine-boned quality of his face implies someone who uses fabric to add size.  
  
Arms crossed, Kylo follows gloved hands as they work on a holo-display.  
  
He imagines fucking Hux would be similar to enduring one of his speeches; that he'd be stiff and formal, laying there in unforgivable lines and sucking the entire mood from the room.  
  
He'd probably find Kylo hotblooded and uncouth – Kylo who needs to touch and feel, who likes thighs on his waist and hands in his hair – would probably strive instead to keep things concise and clean. It's not hard to imagine Hux giving the same clinical detachment to sex that he does anything else. That he'd go at it like a duty, a perfunctory task. His passions seem solely reserved for military zeal and political agenda.  
  
Still making his way through shift check, Hux is halfway to Kylo's perch, writing something across his datapad. Doing so, his sleeves are pushed back, baring a thin strip of flesh between his glove and coat.  
  
Dark eyes stray to the nudity.  
  
Hux has nice wrists. It's a strange thing to notice, but one that's particularly stark when his wrists are the only skin ever displayed below the throat. Today is not the first time Kylo's attention has been caught by them.  
  
The flesh there is translucent and smooth, with blue-green threads where his veins sit. It makes Kylo wonder how far the small details translate, if the flush of rage Hux gets when they're clashing means he's prone to such – if he'd flush for other reasons, down his chest, or if he's easy to bruise.  
  
He tries to picture the shape of his teeth on a collarbone, or how dark Hux would get, arousal straining against his pale stomach, when Kylo seats into him that final inch. He wonders if Hux would still be so haughty when he's spread out on his back, a filthy mess around Kylo's cock – when he's slick and soft from riding Kylo's face, from fingers and lubricant and pre-cum – or how regal he'd be able to act after Kylo gets him on his hands and knees, fucking back onto each thrust.  
  
Exhaling heavily, Kylo shifts, aware that he's gotten himself half hard, and that Hux is already on his side of the bridge.  
  
For an indulgent moment, he imagines the thrill down his spine when the next caught sleeve reveals a bruise. It's the one from Kylo's mouth, from where he's pressed his teeth against Hux's pulse and felt it jump. He imagines how gloved hands would look braced on the command panel as Kylo holds Hux down on it, his chest pressed to Hux's back and his arm caught around his throat. He keeps a fist in his hair and his hips steady, rutting into the other until Hux cums all over the station.  
  
“Can I _help_ you?”  
  
Ironically, it's Hux himself who finally breaks the spell, drawing him back into the moment. He's clearly vexed, his voice sharp as he snaps at Kylo, unusually ruffled.  
  
Kylo considers the question, dropping his gaze onto the plush shape of the commander's mouth, and leers.  
  
Much to his surprise – and delight – Hux flushes, coloring to his hairline. His lips part in outrage, and already caught in arousal, Kylo feels his dick throb. He shifts, subtly trying to adjust himself, and Hux grows even redder.  
  
Something is beginning to tug at Kylo, something important.  
  
He tries to nail it down, but Hux looks so flustered it's difficult not to be distracted. His eyes are overly bright in the flush of his face, which spreads across his neck and below his collar.  
  
Kylo rakes a hot glance over his torso, wondering if his chest has gone just as blotchy, and then down between his legs.  
  
When he looks back up, Hux is staring at him like he's completely lost his mind, shocked and embarrassed and irate.  
  
“ _For christ's sake, Ren_ ,” He hisses, sounding so beyond the point of done that Kylo nearly barks a laugh, except suddenly the tug is back, right there at the edge of his mind, “Go take a cold shower!”  
  
It hits Kylo then – how startled Hux had been to find Kylo staring at him, the way he had tensed up, waiting for him to stop, then snapping at him when he didn't. How red he had gone as soon as Kylo fixated on his mouth, almost as if -  
  
Almost as if he had seen exactly where Kylo was looking.  
  
This time, Kylo is the one who blanches, even as Hux storms off and Phasma throws her gaze skyward in exasperation.  
  
Around them, the bridge is choked with thunderstruck silence, while the crew trapped in place by virtue of their assignments try to look everywhere _but_ Kylo. More than a few of them are pink.  
  
Eye-fucking your General, it turns out, is a lot subtler when the mask is actually _on_ your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'wow who would ever have sex with this loser'  
> immediately gets worked up by a little wrist flashing  
> ok kylo  
> ok


	2. caught in the act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear i write more than aimless smut
> 
> (maybe)
> 
> also, i'm delighted to see people are enjoying these! thank you for the comments and kudos, i was really surprised when i checked back after posting last time to see the response - you guys made my week!
> 
> let's all be kylux trash together +_+9

When the unexpected knock sounds on his door, halfway through his break, Hux considers it a minor triumph that he's able to sound so calm. Laying in bed, his voice has the same authority it always does, brisk and unwavering, almost as if he were still at his post on the bridge.

And not, in fact, like he's sprawled on his back.

Naked.

"What is it?"

Above him, Kylo Ren looks considerably less impressed by his composure, which just goes to show that every theory Hux has ever had about the man's professional sense is absolutely true.

He's also looking a bit offended, presumably because he's just bottomed out and doesn't appreciate being balls-deep in someone who isn't paying attention.  
  
The knock comes again.  
  
“Sir, if you have a moment? It's Rodinon.”  
  
Hux shifts, rising to his elbows, but Ren scowls, seizing him by the waist before he can get any further, “ _Don't_.”  
  
As if to make a point, he nudges his hips, jolting the place where they're connected, and Hux bears down automatically, heat flushing his limbs.  
  
It's not that he doesn't understand Ren's displeasure – they've been building this up for _days_ , pushing at each other, honing the tension – but Hux is still the General and his duties won't be ignored.  
  
Shoving at the wall of chest, he shoots the other a warning look and props himself up, “What do you need, Lieutenant?”  
  
Already running through a list of possible problems and solutions, the redhead keeps a staying palm on Kylo's sternum, who's mood is darkening with each passing second.  
  
“It's about the training, sir.”  
  
Expression wiping clean, Hux lifts a brow.  
  
“Training?”  
  
“Yes, sir. For the new databank.”  
  
This time, it's the general's turn to be displeased. He flops back with a scoff, scrubbing a hand down his face. A simple software update isn't exactly the emergency he was readying for.  
  
“If you'll recall, you offered to help me acquaint with the program.”  
  
Kylo's expression turns alarmingly flat, and Hux realizes with a start that he has every intention of blowing their cover. Scrambling upright, he yanks down the hand suddenly poised to force-blast one of his best lieutenants through a door.  
  
“Don't you dare,” Hux pulls the appendage against his side with a growl, as if to keep it tucked out of trouble, and tries not to think about the headache in store for him should he lose an officer to medical leave.  
  
“Get rid of him,” Kylo's voice is hoarse with arousal and temper as he leans forward, fisting hair, and pulls Hux to his mouth. Their kiss is short and harsh, both of them left breathless when it breaks, “Or I will.”  
  
Bristling at the threat, Hux glares, ready to snap something waspish – _you're not the one in charge here, Ren_ – but then the other catches between his legs, sliding his palm around his cock. He fists Hux once, twice, and the redhead pushes into his hand.  
  
Sensing his advantage, Kylo arches his pelvis.  
  
“ _Now_ , Hux.”  
  
Snort exasperated, but posture relaxing beneath the liquid pleasure, Hux raises his voice again to the man just outside his door,  
  
“I'm not available to help you now, Lieutenant. Perh _a_ -” His breath hitches when Kylo drags a thumb across the head of his cock, and Hux scowls, trying to recover, “- phs Phasma can assist you.”  
  
Vindictively, he gives a short flutter of muscle, and Kylo groans, dropping his forehead against collar. Reminded suddenly of how close they are to relief, Hux sinks his fingers into damp hair, pressing his thighs against Kylo's sides.  
  
“Pardon, sir, but she's also unfamiliar with the system. It has to be you.”  
  
His own ire rises sharply, undercut by the impatience Ren is all but vibrating with. His body is tense against Hux, his shoulders bunched with the effort to keep still.  
  
Whether he's trying not to thrust or trying not to force-choke someone through a wall, Hux isn't sure, but he doesn't plan on lingering long enough to find out.  
  
“Right,” Despite everything, they're both still impossibly hard, Kylo seated deep, and Hux is starting to feel a little desperate. It must show on his face, because when he finally lifts his head, Ren looks him over, his jaw working in wordless frustration.  
  
Slowly, he begins to pull out, hissing at the friction.  
  
Breath faltering, Hux fists the sheets.  
  
“I don't mind waiting, sir, if you're in the middle of something.”  
  
Large hands grab his hips, holding him still for the slide back in – smooth and deep. Hux tries to breathe through the pleasure as it tightens behind his pelvis.  
  
“That won't be necessary.”  
  
The smirk buried against his throat only makes him scowl, even as he tilts his chin to accommodate the wet heat exploring his pulse.  
  
Aware that the situation is quickly tumbling from precarious to dire, Hux tries to keep enough wit about him to salvage what he can.  
  
“Stop by my office next shift change, Lieutenant. We'll - ” Without waiting, Kylo pumps his hips again, and Hux has to stop talking long enough to swallow a groan, “- go over the material then.”  
  
It comes out a rush, but he doesn't care, not when he can't stop rocking into each surge, and not when he's leaking all over his own stomach. Any remaining composure disappears when the force-user quickens his pace, bracing onto forearms.  
  
“Are you s-”  
  
He's clearly done waiting, hips landing hard against the underside of ass, and Hux hisses, gripping onto a taunt bicep. When he slides his legs around the other's waist, hooking his ankles, Kylo makes a rough sound, and Hux realizes that they really are done; that the whole damn brigade could be standing outside of his door and it wouldn't stop Kylo, who's grabbing the headboard for the leverage to start fucking Hux like he means it.  
  
“ _Dismissed_.”  
  
He gets the word out just before a hard thrust robs him of speech, his body jarring as Kylo begins to move.  
  
Vaguely, he's aware of receiving a ' _yes sir_ ', but by then all of his coherency has fled and he's too far gone to care.

 


	3. spar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which a spar with the general turns out to be more work than kylo anticipated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the spar scene no one asked for but that i really wanted lmao 
> 
> for sirriius @ tumblr, who's message inspired this scene and who gave me fun things to think about during a really hectic week!

Two figures stand on the sparring mats of an empty gym. 

Kylo paces, rolling his shoulders, his posture rife with tension.

Across from him, stripped into training pants and an undershirt, Hux watches flatly, his own rage contained to the burn of gaze.

“Are we going to do this or not, Ren?” 

Sneering at his tone, Kylo gives the redhead a derisive once over, his hands itching into fists. He lunges, not bothering with a verbal reply, and begins their spar with a hard swing at Hux's face. 

The redhead jerks away, skirting back as Kylo drives forward.

Although he's agreed to refrain from using the Force, and knows that exerting his full energy would be a waste, years of antagonism make it hard to hold back.

The first few minutes are spent with Hux stuck in defense, Kylo lashing out viciously, so that the General has to dodge and block, constantly in retreat. When Kylo finally connects, landing a punch to his chest, he does so with enough force that he feels the impact of it travel up his arm.

It's ridiculously satisfying, and Kylo pulls his fist back to repeat the action, this time above the neck. Instead, he feels the wind knock out of him when Hux grabs hold of his arm, sweeping his legs out from under him. He hits the mat hard, his shoulder wrenching as the other twists it behind his back. A fist nearly rips the hair from his head as Hux slams his face into the ground.

“You're a pain in the ass,” He growls, digging a knee into his back.

Dazed from the impact, Kylo tries to clear his vision, bringing stunned fingers to the warm liquid sliding down his mouth. Surprised to find he's bleeding, and that Hux has drawn first injury, Kylo gives a breathless laugh.

Despite himself, he's a little impressed.

The hand in his hair tightens, pushing his face harder into the mat.

Kylo rears, shoving free, and grimaces when fingers take a few strands of hair with them. Vaulting onto his feet, he wipes the remaining blood from his nose.

This time, they both go for the offense. 

Even with the General's unexpected ability, Kylo is still the superior fighter, and Hux is careful to keep range between them. He strikes out quickly, his movements short to avoid a take-down. 

They clash hard, trading kicks and hits.

Lunging again, Kylo sinks low, finally catching Hux around the waist. Bracing for it, the redhead manages to stay on his feet, pushing into the momentum, before Kylo uses the leverage to upend him. He slams Hux onto the mat, pinning him down while the redhead thrashes, his palm clipping the underside of Kylo's jaw.

They grapple across the floor, their spar devolving into an all out brawl.

There's something thrilling about getting Hux so physical, about pushing him to his limits so that he's sweating and flushed, looking nothing like the icon of restraint he always is. Instead he's hitting hard, even crudely, and taking any opening he can to gain the upper hand. 

With both of them on their sides, Hux catches the force-user from behind, locking his arms around his shoulders and hooking his legs around his waist. 

Compressing Kylo's throat in the crook of his elbow, he pulls, choking him until the larger male throws his weight, lurching onto his back. Caught between Kylo's body and the floor, Hux abates, winded by the impact. 

Able to breathe again, Kylo heaves forward, tossing Hux into a headlock. 

Between one blow and the next, their contact begins to lengthen. It's fleeting – a glance of palm, the brush of skin – but slowly bleeds their violence into exploration.

They wrestle, legs sliding and hands catching. 

With a burst of strength, Kylo pins Hux onto his stomach, his knees on either side of the General's waist.

Drained, the redhead presses his forehead into the mat, trying to regain his breath, while on-top of him, Kylo is more spent than he cares to admit. 

Gaze dropping onto the nape of Hux's neck, he contemplates the new perspective. The other is surprisingly fit, trim lines on solid muscle, and Kylo is suddenly aware of the way his body feels beneath him.

Sensing his distraction, Hux pitches backward, struggling with renewed energy, and manages to break free. He has just enough time to get upright again before Kylo seizes him, tackling him to the mat.

This time, the redhead is on his back, his legs like a vice around Kylo's ribs. Grabbing onto a thigh when Hux squeezes, he digs his fingers into the muscle, trying to dislodge the pressure.

They're both overheated, the color high in their faces, and strained. 

Finally, the redhead releases his torso, too worn out to continue. His posture softens as he concedes, dropping his feet onto the mat when Kylo lets go. 

Dark eyes take in the other sprawled beneath him, trailing over the translucent cling of his shirt and damp skin. 

Splaying his hands up waist, Kylo tests the shape of body, the heel of his hand grazing sides. His lips part, slightly awed, when Hux arches beneath his palms, his back curling reflexively. Before he can explore the reaction, the redhead knees his side, knocking him over.

They roll, and Kylo finds himself staring at the ceiling, Hux straddled across his pelvis. They're both panting, damp with sweat, and hard. 

It's not uncommon, considering the physical nature of a spar, but there's a thick undercurrent between them that assures Kylo it isn't merely a bodily default.

Bringing his knees up, Kylo shifts Hux into the cradle of his lap, both of them tensing when the new angle presses their groins.

Hux exhales, opening his sprawl, and with a deft crook of hip, rubs himself against the underside of Kylo's cock.

The contact is short, a barely there tease, but Kylo feels it all the way down his spine.  Above him, Hux hisses, nearly thrumming, and he's so fucking sensitive that Kylo wonders how long it's been since he's had someone touch him, or even just since he's gotten off.  

More eager to find out than he should be, Kylo rolls his hips, swallowing thickly when Hux rocks down again, the pleasure sweeping visibly across his body.

Without warning, a throat clears, sounding like thunder in the hush. 

They startle, jerking in surprise to find Phasma standing at the doorway. 

“I'm sorry to interrupt your training - ” Even through her helmet, her tone is dry, “ - but General Hux is needed on the bridge.”  

“Right,” Wiping at his brow, Hux nods, trying to reorient, “Of course. I'll be there shortly.”

Already, he's pulling up familiar control, his focus snapped back onto duties. The moment is gone – was broken the second the Captain announced her presence - and Hux shifts into action, rising to his feet. 

Without further acknowledgment, he departs, taking the datapad from Phasma as he passes, and disappears into the showers.

Kylo watches him go, his lips twisted wryly, and waits until Phasma follows suit before flopping back onto the mats. 


	4. cigar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cigars, like Generals, are best consumed slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [kink prompt](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/145029608715/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill) from an awesome anon on tumblr! they picked #44, humiliation
> 
> Admittedly, this draws inspiration from [jakkutrashheap](http://jakkutrashheap.tumblr.com), whose [dom!Kylo](http://jakkutrashheap.tumblr.com/post/144381402697/its-a-switch-em-up-dom-kylo) has been giving me life lately. Their art is also why Kylo x Cigar is my lowkey otp, and what made this idea click. If you haven't had a chance to yet, definitely go check them out!
> 
> **warnings: D/s, BDSM, objectification (human ashtray), bit gag, etc**

The cigar smolders to life with a few short puffs, glowing brightly as Kylo draws on the end. When the tobacco begins to burn, the Knight pulls it from his mouth, sending a stream of smoke across its tip. The ember flares, blooming over the foot of the cigar, before settling down again. Satisfied, he clicks his lighter shut.

His posture is loose, his mood content. Lounging in the aftermath of an orgasm, Kylo clouds the air, careful to bide his time and regulate his pace.

Cigars, like Generals, are best consumed slowly.

Smirk faint, Kylo leans forward, bracing onto his forearms.

He's pleased to find Hux exactly as he left him, naked and restrained at his feet. With his wrists locked beside his ankles, he's kneeling with his ass in the air and his face by the ground, bound to a spreader bar and displayed.

Contemplating the sleek planes of his body, the knight pulls another drag from his cigar. He slides his boot beneath the other's chin, slick with saliva from the bit-gag in his mouth, and forces him upward.

With Kylo's foot under his jaw, Hux levels his torso, his arms tensing as he shifts. The new position presents his back, creating a resting surface, as if he were a stool or table. Splaying a large palm over the nape of his neck, Kylo dips him forward again, just slightly, to press his body into a slope.

Even here – gagged and bound, blindfolded and naked – the redhead's posture is pristine, his shoulders back and spine straight. A renewed heat begins in Kylo's groin, spreading dimly down his thighs.

The General's discipline, he's come to find, is not without its merit.

Gaze dark, Kylo pulls the cigar from his teeth, ebbing smoke through his nose. A head of ash has gathered on the end, and without speaking he brings it over the divot of Hux's back.

The soot falls in a dusty bundle, smoking warmly, and unprepared for the sensation, the redhead jumps, trying to arch away. Viciously, Kylo lands his palm against the swell of ass, the blow weighted by the Force. Choking around his gag, Hux quickly realigns himself, the Knight's hand print already mottling on his bottom.

This time, the ash rains down in hot sparks, the embers too fresh to cool. As he had before, Hux startles, his position and blindfold denying him forewarning, but manages to hold himself in place. The third time, he merely tenses, flecks of burning tobacco shifting down his spine.

For the next leg of his cigar, Kylo indulges himself, burning through the length quickly. He watches the way hot cinders tumble along the slope of Hux's back, sullying the sleek expanse, and how his skin prickles. Occasionally, raw embers plummet, burning Hux in greater measure, and streak him in molten trails.

Flipping open his lighter, Kylo heats the tip of cigar, his cock stirring at the tension that threads into Hux's posture each time he does so. It becomes a game, then, his thumb on the spoke, and Hux's nerves drawn tight.

Before long, the room is overwhelmed by the fragrance of smoke, a screen of blue-white hanging above them.

When his sporadic lighting takes it toll, one side burning quicker than the other, Kylo holds the entire cigar over Hux's back. Igniting the edge, he roasts the lingering section until, heavy with kindle, the tip falls off, leaving him with a clean break.

Beneath it, Hux inhales sharply, his body flinching as the tobacco settles on his skin. Reflexively, his back curls, trying to dislodge it, but Kylo grabs him roughly by the scruff, shoving his face towards the floor. Bent at a steeper incline, the ember spills between his shoulders, stinging and inescapable.

When it finishes smoldering, the Knight drags the other back up with a fist in his hair. By now, more than half of his cigar is gone. He begins to linger, drawing slowly. The taste has changed, striking deeper notes, and Kylo sinks back to enjoy it.

For the remainder of his smoke, the Knight relaxes, palming himself through his pants. It doesn't take long for the ache in his dick to sharpen, the atmosphere growing thick.

At his feet, exhaustion has begun to creep into Hux's carriage, his breath heavy around the obstruction of his gag. His mouth is raw from it, the metal digging into tender flesh, and saliva pools freely around the bar.

Admiring the obscenity of it, Kylo runs his fingertips along the cleft of ass, ghosting over slick entrance. Hux nearly buckles, swaying into the contact, his body clenching onto emptiness. Between his thighs, his cock is still hard from their earlier contact, ringed and denied.

Every now and then, a soft rasp breaks the silence, ricocheting visibly through Hux as the lighter sparks.

Ash clings to his damp skin, the larger bundles collecting in the dip of his back. Kylo tips the last pile off, depositing it alongside the others, and Hux shakes in the effort to maintain his posture, trying not to spill them. Marbled with soot and peppered in smarting red marks, the shelf of his spine is filthy, his body used and strained.

The lighter ignites.

A cone of tightly packed tobacco is visible, exposed where the last chunk of cigar has broken away. Kylo slides it directly into the tongue of flame, heating it until the ember seethes.

Smearing soot over a pale flank, Kylo holds Hux in place, something close to fondness creeping into his chest at the anxiety pouring off of the other. His breath is frantic, splintering into panic as Kylo prolongs the moment, stretching his nerves.

Finally, when the smoke goes acrid, the Knight extinguishes his lighter, grains of ash fluttering as he removes the cigar from his mouth.

The cherry hisses loudly as he presses it into the General's hip, smoldering through his skin with a merciless crackle. Hux shouts, a hoarse keen, and Kylo smirks, his eyes dark as he watches the cigar go out. When it finishes, Kylo leans in, bringing his mouth to the raw flesh, and exhales his last plume of smoke against the brand.


	5. coming untouched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> coming untouched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another [kink fill](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/kinkfills) from tumblr! the prompt this time was #18 'coming untouched', sent by another cool anon c:  
> (you guys have such good picks, thanks for sending!)

For the third time since departing from his shift on the bridge, General Hux is forced to stop in his stride towards his chamber, waylaid by a lieutenant with a datapad. His jaw tightens.

“Sir,” The officer greets, looking harried.

Carefully, Hux turns towards the other, his pupils flared but voice smooth, “How can I help you, Lieutenant?”

“Apologies, but I need your authorization for these repairs.”

Taking the datapad, Hux scans it unseeingly. A flush has begun to creep over the edge of his collar, “Which ones?”

“The navigation panels, sir, from sector five. For saber damage.”

Tension ripples across Hux’s frame at the mention, his features shifting with an unnamed emotion. It only continues as he scrawls his signature, an imperceptible tremor rippling through his hand. Stiffening, the General stares at the order form, his figure still as he concentrates.

He takes a careful breath. Then another.

After a moment, the officer before him shifts, left awkwardly on standby, and clears his throat in the lull, “Sir?” He hedges, his relief visible when Hux swallows, his attention forced back to the task.

“Here you are, Lieutenant,” Returning the datapad, Hux gives a dismissive nod, resuming his trek. His gait is clipped and uniform, his posture collected.

He barely makes it.

Veering towards a quiet hallway, he opts for convenience over preference.

Locked in the privacy of a refresher, Hux finally lets his breath grow ragged. Another wave of heat rolls through his stomach, spiraling from the unseen hand working over his cock.

Groaning, Hux sinks back against the door. His groin is hot, heavy with arousal, and his skin feels tight. Suddenly aware of just how close he is to release, the redhead begins yanking at his belt, determined not to ruin his uniform. With shaking hands and a few jerky motions, his pants fall around his ankles, his shirt bunched up to his chest.

Exposed to the open air, his stomach is tense, his cock straining damply against the front of his briefs. Another squeeze makes his head thunk back, “You son of a bitch,”

Despite his ire, the words are strained and breathless, stealing the heat from them. Almost mockingly, the pressure flares, slipping along his shaft and between his legs. Hux growls.

When the redhead finally manages to peel his briefs down, his cock is dark and slick, bobbing against his stomach. His thighs tremble, his limbs filled with heat.

Before he can touch himself, the Force-hold tightens and shifts, starting a rhythm that makes his hips rock. Nearly splitting his lip to muffle a shout, Hux writhes against the door.

He begins to fuck into the invisible fist, legs kicked open and pelvis hitching. It’s a lewd image he only catches a glimpse of, reflected back at him from the mirror across the way. His face is flushed, his hair coming down from its slick. Trying not to focus on it, or his own revulsion at the evidence of being so undone, Hux braces his feet.

When the pleasure becomes too much, his dick pulsing in the strange friction, he slips a gloved hand beneath his shirt, rubbing at a nipple.

Torn between the stimulation, Hux curses, his whole body thrumming. It doesn’t take long, only a minute or two of thrusting into nothing, the Force pressed around him, for Hux to hit his limit.

He cums hard, his toes curling in his boots and his back arching from the door. Turning his face, he rides through the pleasure, roping his stomach in hot spurts of release.

When at last he’s milked to completion, the General finds himself sliding downward, his legs weak in the aftermath. Almost immediately the touch is gone, leaving Hux to recover by himself on the floor.


	6. oranges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an ambassador sends the general blood oranges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick warm up fill for #31 on the [kink meme](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/kinkfills)

The fruit had arrived earlier in the week, with a note signed by a familiar ambassador.

Although Hux had seemed nonplussed upon receiving it, his casual demeanor had been belied by a initial flash of delight that had set Kylo’s teeth on edge. He had known the ambassador had taken a liking to Hux, and that to an extent, this had been the General’s intent. Cultivating allies, after all, was part of his job.

What Kylo _hadn’t_ known, however, was just how closely the diplomat had been paying attention.

He'd have to have been to notice the small oranges on Hux’s tray in the mornings, and the way the redhead always saved the dismal fruit for last. Living on a ship came with its own detriments, including the rations available for storage. Fresh produce was rare beyond what was stocked in the dispensers, and usually mealy.

A child of space, though, Hux never seemed bothered by this. In fact, if anything, the General seemed to regard the citrus as an indulgence, lingering over it and portioning his wedges when supplies were low.

The oranges were one of the few pleasures he allowed himself.

It galled Kylo that the ambassador had picked up on this, and even more that his ploy had been successful. Whether Hux admitted it or not, he was pleased by the gift.

Seeing the intricate display, it had taken the better part of Kylo's control to keep from Force-blasting it.

It’s a moment of restraint the Knight finds himself suddenly regretting.

Hux is talking, though about what Kylo isn’t sure. He hasn’t heard a word the other has said since stepping into his office. They’re on shift break, which for Hux means his only chance to eat, and all of Kylo’s focus is trained onto the way he’s carefully peeling an orange.

His hands are bare and his sleeves have been rolled back. As he speaks, his eyes scan a datapad, the fruit cupped in his palm.

It’s large and bright, the skin noticeably thick as the General slices into it. He cuts off the top and bottom, scoring neat lines into its sides. The motion is practiced, done almost absently as he continues to read.

An unbidden warmth begins in Kylo’s gut.

Piece by piece, Hux strips the rind from the orange. His touch is light, gripped loosely to the shape, while his fingers slide beneath the peel. The Knight watches, throat running dry, as naked hands work through the layer. They’re meticulous, removing whole sections at a time, until the orange is tender and exposed in his palm.

They’re blood oranges, ripe and full, with jewel colored pulp. He can tell by the way Hux has drawn them out, restricting himself to one per cycle, that the General has taken a liking to them.

Opening the fruit, he parts the halves with care, their faces wet and firm.

By the time he finishes gliding his thumbnail through the middle, removing the excess skin, the heat has bled into Kylo’s groin. There’s something oddly erotic about seeing the General get his hands dirty.

His fingers are coated in the oil from the rind and dewy with juice as he pulls a wedge free. Sinking his teeth into it, Hux chews on his first bite, his enjoyment all but palpable. The oranges are hearty, brimming with dark pulp, and even with the redhead’s caution, it’s not long before his lips have a sheen to them, his hands sticky.

His manner is casual, his attention still on his datapad, but Kylo can _feel_ the way he’s savoring each bite, can sense him mulling the rush of flavor like a secret indulgence. As far as luxuries go, it’s absurdly simple, but it’s one the General is taking full bodied enjoyment from. He runs his tongue along his teeth, blotting his lips, and reaches for another piece.

Kylo’s stomach tightens.

There’s a thin bead of juice running down Hux's wrist, a runoff from the slice still in his fingers, and the solitary track seems almost obscene.

Watching it makes the Knight want to do ridiculous things, like travel to forgotten corners of the galaxy just to bring back gifts of exotic fruit. He'd unearth entire trees, pulling them from their roots, and create orchards inside of ship hulls.

He wants to imbue Hux, watch his mouth grow lush and sweet, just for the salty contrast when he swallows Kylo’s cock. He can almost imagine the mess Hux would become, nectar running down his chin and hands. He wants him naked, seated on his lap, while Kylo slides pieces of fruit between slick lips and gets the General eating right from his hand, his tongue rubbing on his fingers and welcoming him when they kiss. Afterward, he'd drag wet pulp along sensitive skin, trailing lines on his stomach, his hips, that he'd chase over with an open mouth.

Then he wants to spread Hux out and eat him like _he’s_ the indulgence, lavish his entrance until he’s wet and open, ready to be fucked. A lewd feast.

Drawn from his reverie by a heavy silence, Kylo realizes he’s missed a cue, and tilts his head belatedly. Brows lowering, the General eyes him, “Have you been paying attention at all?”

“Here and there.” The Knight admits, a smirk twitching onto his mouth.

Snorting, Hux pushes away from his desk, brisk and irritated, “I trust you can see yourself out.”

His hands are sticky with juice and unable to put himself to rights, he gives a brief suck to the side of his thumb. Kylo’s pulse skips, his blood thundering.

He catches Hux by the bicep when the General tries to pass, angled towards the refresher to wash up. Tensing, the redhead quirks a brow, a scowl creeping onto his expression, “What?”

Grabbing him by the chin, Kylo drags a thumb across his lower lip. He swipes at the residue there, chasing it to the corner of mouth, and replaces it with the taste of leather.

“A bit of orange,” He explains, his gaze heavy on reddened mouth. Dazed, Hux blinks, color rising high in his face, and steps back when Kylo releases him.

“Oh.” Almost reflexively, he reaches to wipe it away, even as his teeth pull across the lip, “Right…”

A beat of silence passes, Hux visibly addled, before finally he gathers himself, shooting a final glance to the Knight as he leaves. Watching him go, Kylo waits for his own body to settle, his dick straining against the front of his pants. A splash of color in his peripheral turns his attention back to the desk, where the oranges are stacked neatly in their bowl.

A number of them remain, round and perfect.

Lifting one, Kylo contemplates the fruit, bright in his fist, and chuckles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ tbh i just like the idea of corrupt ambassadors sending hux gifts and kylo wanting to lavish him with nice things from all over the galaxy in a moment of lust


	7. rimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Kylo rims Hux until he cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls accept this small offering of smut. The end of the year kicked my ass, so I haven't been able to respond or post much, but If you've left comments/kudos or bookmarked, please know that I love you dearly, and that you're the bees knees! I appreciate the heck outta you <3 (x2 for those repeat offenders!!! i bet u thought i didn't notice but _i do_ , i so do, and i'm sendin much love)

He’s on his stomach, with his thighs spread and Ren’s face pressed against his ass. Twisting the sheets, Hux swallows down a groan, trying not to squirm, but the other is relentless, nuzzling and licking as if he could go for hours. Hux is close to ruin. **  
**

Each swipe of tongue sends fire along the back of his legs, making his balls ache and his dick leak. It’s hot, slick friction, opening his body with lazy greed. Every minute that passes is another blow to his resolve, until time blurs and Hux can’t tell up from down or left from right. His face is pressed into the mattress, attempting to hide the slack expression that gives him away, because even now - even with his ass in the air and Ren’s hands on his hips - the General refuses to admit defeat.

As if sensing his struggle, the Knight slides his palms down his thighs, pushing them further apart. His touch is feather light, winding Hux tighter and tighter, and begins to trail over his waist. After so long without touch, every drag of skin against his own is like a brand, sending chills up his spine. Hux trembles.

Bit by bit, Ren dismantles him.

Soon, not even the numbness in his knees is enough to ground him. He’s raw-nerved, his chest flushed and nipples stiff. Spreading his cheeks, Ren fucks into him with his tongue, switching between heavy licks and teasing curls. When he starts a rhythm, Hux can’t stop the choked off sound that finally escapes, his hips bucking uselessly. Between his legs, his cock is desperately hard, dark and untouched.

He feels the other smirk against his entrance, his lips soft and hot, kissing him lewdly. It’s maddening, makes his back arch and stomach clench. Desperation robs him of coherency. Shifting his weight, Hux raises onto his forearms, his whole body shaking as large hands squeeze his ass. The touch is demanding and proprietary, and Hux pushes into it, too far gone to bother with annoyance. Instead he bites his lip for silence as Kylo continues to eat him out, the shock and obscenity of it only sharpening his pleasure.

He’s sensitive and restless, aching for release. Rough hands grab his hips, lifting him towards the heady press of mouth. Without thinking, Hux widens his straddle, exposing the slick pout of his entrance, and is rewarded with a groan.

Smooth, hungry thrusts nearly undo him, all of Ren’s earlier finesse replaced by base want. It’s only when the Knight begins to pull away, easing back in minute increments, that Hux realizes he’s been swaying into the contact. Despite himself, he tries to follow, rutting after it. The bastard is teasing him - has gotten Hux pushing onto his face and nudging onto his tongue - but every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire. Muffling an anxious moan as Ren begins lapping at him again, the General vibrates, his body taut and flushed. Ren chuckles, burying the sound against his swollen rim, and Hux’s arms give out at the sensation. For long, drugged moments, he writhes beneath the onslaught.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurs to him that the throaty noises filling the room are his own, and that he should probably try to stop them. Instead, Kylo scatters his thoughts with a slap to his ass, pressing a final, humming kiss to his entrance.

He’s so wet and ready that the Knight sinks two fingers into him without trouble, the thick digits swallowed into the hot ache of his body. Hux sobs.

Keeping him open, Kylo gives an appreciative rumble, his gaze dark and possessive as it rests on the stretch of him.

“Look how fucking greedy you are.” He purrs, his voice pulled from depths of his chest. His fingers thrust in and out with soft, filthy sounds, and Hux pants, watching the other over his shoulder.

“Fuck,” Kylo slides a third finger in, hissing at the way Hux draws him in, squeezing around his knuckles. He can’t know how he looks - his ass tilted and wet, fucked out from slick kissing and fervent licks - but the raw way the Knight groans at the sight of him makes his dick throb anyway. With his chest pressed to the bed and his knees braced, he feels exposed and eager, his expression creased with pleasure. His breath hitches at the sight of the other’s cock, ruddy and thick, straining towards his stomach. Hux clenches imploringly around the Knight’s fingers.

In a flash, Ren leans down again, licking at the snug flesh he’s working open. Hux cries out, his vision going white when those same digits rub over his prostate. Setting a pace, Kylo breaks him with ruthless intent, his touch steady, his mouth lush. Buckling against the bed, the General is sobbing in earnest when his orgasm finally hits, wrung from his body by curling fingers and hot stabs of tongue.


	8. kyluxhardkinks #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a small fill for the following [prompt](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/159884037270/kylo-kills-someone-in-front-of-hux-with-his-bare) on kyluxhardkinks:
>
>> Kylo kills someone in front of Hux with his bare hands like it's nothing. Fisrt time it happens Hux can't sleep at night because he is too busy fantasizing about things like display of brutal force and Kylo's hands (and himself being wrecked to hell somewhere in-between)

The officer’s throat gives beneath Ren’s hand with a sickening crunch. Bone on cartilage on tissue, all ground together and turned into pulp. It happens so fast Hux finds himself unable to react, his lips parted in stunned silence. His brain tries to process what he’s seeing, parsing through the last few seconds. One moment the officer had barged in unannounced, the next Ren had struck, his arm lashing out viper-quick. The officer stares at him now with wide eyes, his face mottling red. He gurgles in the back of his throat, inadvertently sputtering blood. With a snarl, Ren tightens his hand, wrenching out another wet choke, before tossing the man to the side like discarded trash. The body crumples, dead before it even hits the ground.

Later, when Hux has finally retreated to the sanctity of his room, the scene replays behind his eyelids. Hidden in bed, he sees the powerful coil of Ren’s arm as he attacks, swooping down with predatory grace. He feels the warm spray of blood on his face, and hears the crack of vertebrae. The Knight had been a weapon in motion, thrashing the other as if he weighed nothing. A quiet thrill runs through Hux. Between his legs, his dick begins to ache, pulsing with low grade arousal. Hux ignores it, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes until he sees stars. It’s a long time before he falls asleep.

—

The next time, they’re on the bridge, surrounded by a dozen crewmen. No one dies, but Ren’s anger is a palpable thing, smothering them with its force. Starkiller is still a fresh loss, and tempers are frayed. Hux, struggling to salvage his career and pride, takes little heed of the Knight’s mood. He snaps back with vitriol, seething in the cauldron of his emotions. They argue, and Hux is surprised to realize that a fight is exactly what he’s looking for. He’s eager to engage the other without the veneer of politics - wants to split his knuckles and make Ren bleed. Even more, he wants Ren to hit him back. To keep hitting until his skin stops feeling too tight.

Instead, the Knight leaves a ring of bruises on his forearm, red-pink fingerprints that quickly grow dusky. Standing beneath the spray of his shower, Hux looks down at the ripening marks. Even now, a few hours old, they’re tender. The water beats down on him, getting in his eyes and plastering his hair to his face. Without thinking, he digs his other hand into them, the sharp pain of it making his teeth clench. He tries to think of what might have happened had they not been interrupted. He tries to imagine the collection of bruises he’d have to match the ones on his arm. It’s a thought that lingers with him long after the water goes cold.

—

Day by day, Snoke burns through a little more of the Knight. It’s clear in the maddened fervor that he pursues the Scavenger and his uncle with, dedicating his every breath to destroying them. His zeal is eating him from the inside, the flame of it turning his outbursts explosive. Kylo Ren grows more dangerous with each step closer to his goals, a volatile mix waiting to combust. Hux wonders if Snoke is aware that soon, not even he will be able to control the destruction. He watches the Knight tear into his comrades, brutalizing them under the guise of training, and tries to hide the frantic throb of his pulse.

—

The ambush is over before it even begins. Their attackers are a group of rebels, poorly trained and counting on surprise to win them favor. It doesn’t. Within seconds, everything descends into chaos, the routine transfer turning into a scuffle. Blaster fire shrieks through the air, and the smell of blood and burnt skin blooms around them. Ren, already tense, doesn’t bother with his saber. He tears through the republic soldiers with barely contained savagery, snarling and breaking bones. All of him is engaged in putting the foe down, thick muscles shifting beneath his robes as he moves. Without his mask on, Hux can see the feral expression Ren wears as he slams one of the rebels into the ground, braining him with a fist in his hair. Gore splatters, spraying from impact and into Ren’s face. He throws around the armed fighters as if they were dolls, a game for him to vent out his energy on. Hux keeps a white knuckled grip on his own blaster, his knees weak in the aftermath.

He’s still breathless hours later, one hand down his briefs and an arm thrown over his eyes. Shame coils hotly in his gut, even as he continues to stroke himself to completion. His palm is nearly dry, forcing him to bite his lip to keep from hissing at the sting. It’s rough and fast, as much pain as pleasure. The image of Ren, powerful and strong, haunts him through the act. With his eyes squeezed closed, Hux slips his arm down his face, breath shuddering, and flattens his palm over his throat. He presses, sharp and tight, and cums so hard he nearly blacks out.

—

His knees are raw, bruised deeply and torn. Hux tries to blink through his sweaty bangs, swallowing the taste of his own blood. He’s pinned on his stomach, his body a canvas of bruises and bites. His cock is achingly hard. Above him, Kylo keeps him in place with his weight, and rakes nails down his back. Arching, Hux muffles a harsh sound, the welts stinging as a heavy chest settles against him. They’re both battered from their previous fight, a snarling collision that’s become something more. Hux’s throat is on fire, his lips swollen and red, split from teeth. With only enough prep to allow him to be breached, the Knight thrusts in. This time, Hux can’t silence himself, shouting loudly and biting his own fist. The other is hot and thick, impaling Hux with more than he can take. When hips finally press against his ass, Hux has to swallow a sob, his body jarring as Kylo begins to grind. The pace is hard and merciless, the drag of cock sharp against his nerves. His vision whites, his hands scrabbling against the ground. He can’t catch his breath, can only writhe beneath the onslaught, a litany of hurt, hungry sounds falling from his mouth. Precum throbs freely from his cock. When the Knight leans in, his teeth snapping at the redhead’s shoulder, Hux knows it won’t be long. In the end, all it takes is the large hand that reaches around his throat, creating a collar of bruises, to send him over. Hux cums with the other choking him to the edge of a black out, the orgasm ripping through him with blinding force. His ass is burning, his whole body fuzzy with pain and pleasure. Behind him, Kylo snarls, nearly ripping the hair from his head, and follows suit.


	9. the bachelor au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (AU) The one where Kylo Ren is the bachelor on a reality show about finding love, and Hux is the exasperated production assistant stuck fielding his bullshit.

Hux is in the middle of a final lighting check when his intern bursts out of their staff room. Her face is red and contorted as she rushes by, weeping loudly. Whether her condition is stress induced or from genuine upset, he can’t tell. What he does know is that the flurry of words she throws at him means that she’s quitting, nevermind that they’re only forty minutes away from rolling tape. His lips thin and his brow darkens as he watches Poe try to comfort the girl.

It’s the third intern in as many weeks to walk out on him.

At his hip, a walkie-talkie hisses. Rattling off a set of adjustments into it, Hux marks off another item on his clipboard, checking his watch. Thirty-eight minutes.

Poe, his camera in tow, eventually wanders over with a wry look, “Another one down.”

Sure enough, a quick glance confirms that the girl  - Carrie, he thinks, or maybe Cathy - is furiously shoving her belongings into a bag. Hux scowls, only slightly mollified by a sympathetic thump on the shoulder from Poe.

She may not have been the best intern in the world, but insofar, she had also been the only one to get his coffee right.

“What are you going to do?”

Poe follows him as he does a quick sweep of the foyer they’re standing in, the likes of which belong to the villa that’s going to serve as their set. Outfitted with marble floors and a winding staircase, the entryway leads into a large sitting room, where most of the night’s filming is to take place. A set of glass doors lead out onto a picturesque terrace, currently bathed in a red and orange sunset.

Ignoring the question, Hux scribbles through more of his list, speaking into his headset, “Start getting ready to shoot the arrivals.”

Getting a group of people in and out of makeup without running over schedule is no small feat, but if anyone can manage, it’s Phasma. Soon, they’ll begin filming, and the contestants will be set free to mingle and wait. In the background, Poe and his crew will loiter to capture their interactions, gathering feed for later. Although the instructions have already been explained to those participating, Hux knows it’s likely they’ll still need to be repeated numerous times before the evening’s done. He snorts, a headache already forming.

If anyone had told Hux when he decided to enter production that he would end up managing a reality show based on the romantic escapades of a pansexual bachelor, he would have laughed himself silly. Karma is a bitch.

Unfortunately, so are student loans. Which is why, he supposes, he’s so willing to sign away the next six weeks of his life to this.

Glancing at Poe, the redhead watches as he takes off towards the driveway with a wave. The man is a bloodhound for drama. If there’s anything worth recording, or any tension worth prodding, he’ll find it. Satisfied, Hux turns, making his way back towards the door his intern had fled from.

One of his favorite aspects to working behind the scenes is the lack of dress code. His slacks are casual, but well tailored, and the sleeves of his white button up are rolled to his elbows. They’ve been working in the villa all day, setting up and preparing, and he’s immensely grateful to have been able to do so in his chucks, instead of in dress shoes. Still, despite his worn soles, his steps are clipped and precise as he approaches the staff room.

The area is a guest room they’ve converted into a work space, equipped with a conference table, a small couch, and various supplies. There’s a makeup chair and portable vanity against the far wall, with another small table for their microwave and coffee pot next to it. In the corner, their stylist is looking harassed, his expression two seconds away from a melt down. Jaw tightening, Hux catches his eye, nodding towards the door, and tries not to pinch the bridge of his nose when the stylist scrambles by.  

Fifteen minutes.

He looks up to the only other occupant in the room, his irritation rising. Kylo Ren. Bachelor extraordinaire and star of their show. Even with his cuffs unbuttoned and his shirt untucked, the man looks like he was born to wear a suit. He’s handsome. Rich.

Totally annoying.

For the next six weeks, twelve unlucky bastards are going to compete for his attention and entertain the masses. Hux almost pities them. Ever since they went into pre-production, Ren has been nothing but a giant pain the ass. He terrorizes staff with his temper and spends his free time ordering everyone around. Hux is the third person that’s been brought in for his job, after his predecessor stormed out  and never returned.

Luckily, Hux is in possession of something not even Ren can compete with: namely, an exhaustible income. In fact, it’s so exhausted it might as well be comatose. Which means his motivation to succeed far outweighs his desire to smash the other man’s face in, no matter how many times he’s tempted. Since he also enjoys the finer things in life - like paying rent and eating - he plans on following this through to the end, even if it kills him.

Some days are harder than others.

Scowling at the glass of red wine Ren is drinking - the one hovering near the front of his snow white dress shirt - Hux approaches him bruskly, picking up the jacket laid out over a chair. Raising his brows, he holds it open, relieved when Kylo sets his wine down to slide his arms in. He can feel the other’s smirk even without looking. His brow twitches. The silence lengthens.

Using the discarded lint roller the stylist had been clutching like a lifeline, Hux brushes down his shoulders. Even tucked away in a blazer, the man is unfairly solid. Not that Hux has noticed. Because he hasn’t. Not really. Not in any personal capacity, anyway. (He’s not  _stupid_ , he has  _eyes_ , he can see for himself that Kylo Ren is a fine specimen of man. It’s part of what makes him the ideal bachelor. He’s also rude, arrogant, and a righteous prick. No set of deltoids can soften that trade-off - not even ones as nice as Ren’s.)

As Kylo tucks his shirt in, Hux plucks up one of the ties left by wardrobe.

Ten minutes.

Wordlessly, the redhead loops the silk around the other’s neck, beginning the careful motions of a windsor knot. Just because the man is a bore doesn’t mean he can’t be a well dressed one. 

“Two creams.” Hux murmurs, his eyes flicking to the bob of Kylo’s adam’s apple. They’re close enough to share body heat, and his next inhale is filled with the scent of the younger man’s cologne. “Three sugars.”

Cross. Loop. Repeat. 

“Extra strong.”

Kylo quirks a brow, his gaze amused. Hux continues undeterred, weaving the tie through itself. “It’s how I like my coffee. Nothing complicated. Nothing fancy.” Carefully, he brings the garment through it’s final loop, securing the knot beneath Kylo’s throat. “And  _yet_  -” 

He tightens his grip.  _Pulls_.

For the first time since entering the break room, Kylo wavers from his smirk, blanching as Hux nearly strangles him with his tie. His expression is placid as he draws it even tighter, “ - the only member of this god forsaken crew who ever managed to get it right has just stormed out.” 

With a tug that’s a touch too rough, Hux releases his grip on the makeshift noose, easing the knot into a more reasonable position. Casually, he smooths down Kylo’s collar, straightening his lapels.

Clearing his throat, the larger male eyes him warily, running his own finger beneath the tie to create more slack. “Lost another duckling, have we?”

Hux scowls, yanking on the lapels, “Stop scaring off my interns.”

The lazy smirk is back, smug and brazen as Kylo leans into his face again, “Hire better interns.”

Hux narrows his gaze. Takes a breath. Counts to ten. Despite himself, he can feel an angry flush creeping onto his face.

Six minutes.

Refusing to be cowed, the redhead grits his teeth, trying not to rub his temples. “Look, Ren. We have six weeks of filming ahead of us and no time for bullshit. I don’t care what you do when tape is rolling, but behind the scenes, keep your drama to a minimum.”

The eyebrow that quirks is infuriating, as is the way Kylo sneers at him, “Or what?”

They stare at each other, stuck in a standstill. Hux glares, biting down a retort, and Kylo pushes another confrontational inch into his space. A strained minute passes. Neither yield. Slowly, the redhead’s flush darkens, his shoulders growing tense. His voice is carefully calm when he manages to speak. The bachelor’s eyes glint.

“Ren.”

“Hm?” 

“Get your hand off my ass.” Kylo’s grin is unrepentant and just self satisfied enough to send Hux’s blood pressure rocketing. The hand in question does as asked, but not before giving him a lascivious squeeze. 

(Hux takes great delight in shoving his clipboard into Kylo’s gut as he turns to go. He’s only mildly appeased by the pained grunt that follows him out the door, but for now, he supposes, it’ll do.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no interns were harmed in the making of this drabble (..much)


	10. introspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels like benediction, and wounds like grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this fanart](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/159552198685/jeusus-i-felt-you-so-much-today). Normally I try not to write anything based on fanart, as I don't want to step on any toes, but this one stuck with me. Since it wasn't a specific scenario, and more a mood piece, I figured I'd post it (If it IS a problem, though, I'll be sure to take it down!)

Some days are worse than others.

Some days, Hux can see the end of their story so clear it makes his throat ache. His dreams follow him out of bed, flashing bitterly behind his eyes, and stalk him through the hours. Hux is no fool. He has always known that Ren is destined for ruin, and that theirs is a path with only one outcome. Still he dreads the inevitable.

One day, not long from now, there will be no knock on his door. There will no longer be enough of Ren left to do so. Driven by ambition, the Knight is tearing his way through the galaxy, using himself as fuel. It’s unsustainable and violent, leading them to success, but at a price. It makes Hux want. It makes him bruise.

Soon, all that will remain will be tired eyes and the memory of warmth.

For now, the knock still comes, and a familiar face greets him at his door. Hux permits Kylo entry without speaking, too tired for games or denial. His entire body hurts, heavy with the weight of things to come, and he soothes himself with touch, pulling Kylo against him. The Knight is solid in his palms, warm and alive, responding to him with hard kisses. Hux drinks him in, desperate for contact, and lets ungloved fingers run over his face and neck. A moment later, he’s only half-surprised to find himself lifted up, and quickly complies with tight legs around Kylo’s waist. In the dim light, the other’s eyes are dark and soft, cutting into him with too much knowing. Hux sucks on his lower lip, earning a low groan. 

Later, spread on his back with Kylo above him, Hux finds a plea stuck in his throat. Desperation chokes him, forcing him to tighten his fist in Kylo’s hair. Rocking their hips together, the Knight shushes him, murmuring against his mouth.

He wants to ask the Knight to stay - wants to demand he stop letting Snoke chip away at him piece by piece. He wants Kylo to fight. Instead, Hux allows the other to pin him to the bed and settle between his thighs. The first thrust is hard and deep, locking them together with intimate fury. It grounds Hux, the tantalizing ache almost more than he can bear. He clings to the feeling, to the fullness and burn, and savors the claustrophobia of being surrounded. Kylo is everywhere, pressed down and around him, and their skin slides damply together. Each inhale reminds him that the other is real. That he’s there and alive. They fuck slowly, unwilling to allow any space between them.

Hux closes his eyes. His chest aches with all he wishes to say, and with the fragile need to keep this moment forever. Time is running out for them, and each day forward is another one gone. When Kylo brings their lips together, Hux kisses back with all of his yearning, his arms circling broad shoulders. In the silence of the room, he feels raw and exposed, pinned to the bed with emotion and the heady press of Kylo’s cock.

Each languid thrust pushes a breathy groan from Hux, his body pulsing hotly around the Knight. He isn’t going to last, but neither is the other, Kylo’s body tense and trembling with pleasure. When the orgasm comes, it rushes over them like a wave, warm and deep, wringing them both out. It feels like benediction, and wounds like grief.

In the dark, Hux drifts through the aftermath, trapped by the weight of Kylo’s arm, and mourns.


	11. kor vs hux's sexual frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Knights of Ren vs Hux's Sexual Frustration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame [this post and topkyloren's tags](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/162648987815/h-uxed-hux-broadcasting-images-involving) tbh xp

It sits in the back of Kylo’s mind, a soft tremble of energy that he’s spent the last two days trying to ignore. If he thinks about it too much, the buzz turns into an ache, hot and restless, that threatens to creep down his spine and into his dick. **  
**

Teeth clenching, Kylo parries forward, swinging his saber with a violent crack.

Across from him, his Rogue manages to block the attack, looking equally frustrated, if not a little wry. They’ve been sparring for over an hour now, and both of them are breathless with exertion. His Rogue sighs.

“Why don’t you just do it?”

The next time Kylo strikes, he’s sure to use enough force to send the other man into a wall.

***

He tries meditation, next.

Folded into lotus, the Enforcer concentrates on his own breathing, letting the numb tranquility wash over him. He seeks inner silence, focusing on the core of his being. The ache intensifies, pulsing softly beneath his skin. His jaw flexes. With formidable willpower, Kylo struggles to take slow, even breaths, locking away all emotion. After a moment, he manages to uncurl his fingers from where they’ve bunched into fists.  

Inhale. Exhale.

Next to him, his Armory swallows, his throat clicking audibly. Even with his eyes closed, Kylo can feel the pointed way the other tries to avoid glancing at his lap. The silence thickens, undercut by coiled hostility. Gritting his teeth, the Knight holds his breath. Through the channel of his empathy, another rush of heat spills over him. Somewhere nearby, an oblivious Hux is manning the bridge, continuing the same frustrating train of thought he’s been nursing all week. Kylo’s cock jumps.

A moment later, neither of them speak when his fists slams into the wall comm, turning it to pieces on the way out.

***

“Begging pardon, my lord,” His Monk begins, and even without finishing, Kylo knows he isn’t going to like what she has to say. Glancing over, his brow darkens at the sly smirk she’s sporting.

They’re in the canteen, where a handful of officers are milling about during break. Across from them, the General is conversing with one of his staff, his profile tight and sleek in his uniform.

Every now and then, his gaze flickers to Kylo, catching on the Knight in whisper-quick glances. Even from the opposite side of the room, Kylo can sense the frantic beat of the his pulse. Sharp, anxious want fills him.

“If you’re not going to do it,” his Monk drawls, both of them watching the redhead, “Can I?”

More than one officer jumps at his snarl, and even more scatter when he storms out of the room.

***

It’s a constant ache, filling him with heat and restless tension. He’s not sure when Hux’s interest in him first began, or what it was that caught the General’s eye. He only knows that it’s escalated, and that he’s beginning to forget a time his dick hadn’t been hard. It presses against the front of his pants even now, stiff and heavy, as another echo of Hux’s thoughts reach out to him. Such has been the pattern, the other projecting his wants like a beacon.

Loathe as Ren is to admit it, it might be getting out of hand.

He gets his confirmation halfway through his shift, when the familiar form of his Tank bursts into his latest interrogation.

“Please, my lord,  _please_  - ”

The large figure is sweating, the front of their pants tented. Strapped to the chair, his victim begins to struggle anew, and Kylo sighs, dropping his hand away.

“It’s too much, none of us can concentrate - it’s been  _weeks_! -”

Rubbing his temples, Ren flicks a gesture to the droid hovering in the corner, ignoring the screams that begin as it zooms over.

***

The breaking point comes two nights later. Unable to sleep, Kylo wanders the halls of the ship, seeking solace from empty corridors. In truth, he’s not sure why he hasn’t acted on the General’s desire yet, or what it is that keeps him waiting.

It’s become a game, almost. A test of wills.

There’s a large part of Kylo reluctant to give that up.

A sudden wave of arousal hits him so hard he nearly takes a knee. Immediately, the psychic backlash from his knights clamors to a frenzy, their responses a chaos of emotion hemming in his senses. With a snarl, Kylo braces himself against a wall of the corridor, his teeth grit hard enough to hurt.

Slowly, the noise abates, leaving him alone in his own skull again. He hones in on the source of the influx, one hand clenched between his legs to stave off the fierce arousal.

What he finds is the impression of sheets caught around naked hips, and the soft rasp of a groan. Somewhere above him, Hux is touching himself to thoughts of Kylo.

Hissing, the Knight thunks his head back, unrepentant in his voyeurism and second hand pleasure. Although it’s not the clearest image, the outpouring of sensation is enough to have him rock hard and desperate. Together, they ride the tide of Hux’s need, each pull and press echoing in Kylo like a daydream. For long, sweaty minutes, they coast closer and closer to relief. Just as they reach the fall, suspending them both in feverish anticipation, everything stops.

Stunned, on the razor edge of orgasm, the Knight waits for Hux to resume.

He doesn’t.

Enough is enough.

***

A day later, he tracks the General down in the officer’s wing, venting his frustration at the gym. The area is empty save for a lone treadmill, and the Knight keeps his steps silent as he weaves towards it.

Undetected and standing back, Kylo spends a moment watching the General’s ass in the close fit of his training pants. Beneath the fabric, he can see the shift of muscle as his legs work, and the way sweat has darkened in the dip of his lower back. The wings of his shoulders are lean and left bare by the cut of his tank top, his skin flushed prettily with heat. Feeling oddly patient, he waits for the other to finish his run, content to study his form as he climbs down and wanders over to his water.

“General,” He finally says, startling the other. Without waiting, Kylo stalks forward, crowding Hux back against the wall, and braces his forearms on either side of his head. Leaning down, his voice drops to a croon, “Is there something you’d like to discuss?”

Hux is stunned silent beneath him, his breath still labored and tense. His gaze darkens, his posture unconsciously opening. Finally, he blinks, features twisting into a half hearted scowl, “Besides your appalling disregard for boundaries?”

It’s said with such casual disdain that Kylo almost believes it, except Hux’s pulse is frantic and the aching thrum of heat still has a firm grip on Kylo’s dick. It only increases the longer they stand there, Hux’s breath a soft rush in the silence.

“When was the last time someone touched you, General?” Testing his gambit, Kylo spans his palm over Hux’s lower back, splaying his fingers. Hux is warm, his shirt damp, and through the flimsy fabric Kylo can feel him shiver. Dragging his hips forward, he presses them together, letting the other feel the entire breadth of him. Pleasure unfurls in him when the redhead tips his head back, his gaze heavy and molten.

“Careful, Ren,” And it’s as much an invitation as it is a warning. Kylo smirks.

***

There were a number of ways Kylo had expected Hux to try to kill him. Making him blow his brains out through his dick hadn’t been one of them.

As the redhead crests through another orgasm, his third so far, the knight grits his teeth, his eyes rolling back at the tight friction around his cock.

All in all, he decides, just before cumming hard enough to Force blast half the room, it’s not a bad way to go.


	12. kyluxhardkinks#2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo enjoys making a mess of the General.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Another fill](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/163047718295/kylos-pull-out-game-is-weak) for kyluxhardkinks! This time for the prompt "Kylo's pull out game is weak"

The heat in Kylo’s gut is building faster than he can control, the tension between his hips winding tighter and tighter. With a groan, he jerks Hux back onto his cock, fucking into him with deep, heavy thrusts. His jaw clenches, pleasure exploding behind his eyes, and his balls draw tight as his muscles strain with exertion. Beneath him, spread on his hands and knees, Hux gasps against the sheets, looking wrecked and perfect. His ass is open and slick, milking Kylo in tight ripples as the General races closer to orgasm. Their skin slaps, ringing out, and Kylo nearly lifts the other from the bed as he punches his hips forward, sinking into feverish heat like a man possessed. When his strikes begin to hit just right, Hux arches, his voice going hoarse, the string of desperate sounds nearly Kylo’s undoing.

He watches the thick girth of his cock split Hux open, driving into tender flesh that clings to him like a glove. Already, he can feel the force of his release crashing down on them. It’s drawn from his body by tight, voluptuous friction, and steals away all rational thought. It’s with savage delight that he feels Hux cum first, his ass squeezing rhythmically, and Kylo’s whole world narrows down to the overwhelming pleasure. With a dozen more thrusts, Kylo follows after him, pumping his seed deep into Hux’s body, a snarl ripped from his chest. It seems to go on forever, and it’s only at the final spurts that he remembers his promise to pull out. Doing so now only serves to paint the General’s ass and lower back in cum, marking him with the pungent scent of sex. Kylo groans, pleased by the primal sight, and tapers through the final waves by rubbing the head of his cock between Hux’s cheeks.

“Fuuuck.”

For a long, breathless moment, they both regain their senses. Hux is the first to move, collapsing down on the bed with a grimace and a scowl thrown over his shoulder. Still gripping the base of his dick, Kylo lifts an unapologetic brow, smug with satisfaction, and drops his gaze to the seam of Hux’s ass.

The sight of it makes him groan.

Without thinking, he reaches forward, spreading his hands across narrow hips to smear his cum, pushing it deeper into Hux’s skin. The redhead responds by hissing in protest, and rolls away to stretch on his back. His chest is flushed, his hair curled damply around his brow. Following after him, Kylo smirks at the grimace each movement pulls from Hux, but quickly finds himself distracted by the wet shine on his thighs.

His dick gives a tired twitch. The need to see is overwhelming.

Not for the first time, Kylo is grateful for the difference in their size, and uses his greater strength to crowd between Hux’s legs, pushing his knees back despite the protest. Spread out, the General looks even more obscene than Kylo imagined. His entrance is flushed and wet, gaping from the stretch of Kylo’s cock, his cum mingling with lube and sweat. It’s a filthy, waton mess and it makes his blood thunder in his veins. Cursing, the Knight drags Hux forward, tilting his hips up to expose him in full, and wastes no time in burying his face between his legs. The shock of it makes the other jerk beneath him, a startled cry rising from his throat.

Beneath his mouth, Hux is swollen and soft, the flesh friction hot as Kylo licks into him. He can taste himself, salty and thick, mixing in with the scent of skin and sex. It’s maddening, addicting, and he delves deeper, eating the other out until his ass is red and dripping, fucked open by his tongue and lips, so sensitive that Hux begins to sob. Undeterred, Kylo continues his relentless assault, lapping up his own cum, and savors the feel of Hux clenching around his tongue. By the time he rolls the other onto his stomach, they’re both already hard again, and Hux is rocking back onto his face without abandon. His body is like a furnace when Kylo at last slips inside, his ass arched back into the contact. It doesn’t take long for them to reach their peak, and amid soft moans and the creak of the bed, Kylo once more fills the General to the brim, insatiable and fierce.


	13. begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kink prompt #8, begging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting a few prompt fills over from tumblr c: as always, thank you to everyone who comments/kudos - you guys are the best!

There’s something immensely gratifying about keeping the General panting and desperate beneath him. With a crook of his fingers, Kylo wrings out another cut-off moan, his own dick aching fiercely. The nape of Hux’s neck is flushed and damp, the hair plastered to it curled stubbornly. His knuckles, trapped in a vice of heat, spread apart, making the redhead shudder. He hisses like an angry cat, back arched, and claws at the sheets.

Pressing his mouth to a sweaty shoulder, Kylo chuckles. Not for the first time, he feels the tell-tale clench of an approaching orgasm and eases his fingers back. Denied yet again, Hux chokes on a frustrated moan, shoving his hips towards the fleeing friction. Mercilessly, the Knight bears down, trapping him to the mattress.

“Not yet.” His murmur is gravel-rough, a low purr against warm skin. Sinking his teeth into the same spot a moment later, Kylo waits for Hux’s pulse to slow again before moving. With four fingers buried deep inside him, the General is a pretty picture, his rim red and stretched, wet with lube. It pulls at Kylo, clinging to his touch as he continues to work Hux open. His balls give a sympathetic twinge, burning with arousal.

Soon, his patience will meet its end, and he’ll be forced to give Hux what they both want. But not yet. Carefully, he slips one finger free, and then another, decreasing the pressure until it’s not enough. The redhead curses, spitting fire, even while he rolls his hips beseechingly. His tone is unraveling at its edges, growing ragged with the need Kylo denies to tame. Sucking a bruise on the throat beneath his lips, he rubs at Hux’s prostate, flirting with its edge. He keeps his rhythm light, inconsistent, trading firm strokes with stretching tugs. Casually, his thumb brushes the tight band of muscle around his fingers, teasing raw nerves. It’s enough to make Hux contort beneath him, oversensitive and pushed to new limits.

The General is beautiful in his desperation. He falls apart with each touch, curling up towards Kylo as the Knight brackets him in, settling his hips against his ass. This time, the groan is Kylo’s as his cock finds its place against slick flesh, and for a long moment, he merely ruts between pert cheeks, leaving the other empty as he takes hold of his hips. It’s too much, finally driving the redhead over the edge. He presses backward, voice cracking from his throat, “Please.”

Triumph sweeps down Kylo’s spine, pooling warmly in his groin, “Use your words, General.”

With a grip tight enough to bruise, he rolls his hips, dragging his cock over the other’s entrance until the head begins to catch. His eyes flutter shut, pleasure lighting up his body, and nearly buckles at the hurt, hungry noise that breaks from Hux in response.

“Fuck me, Ren, fuck me -” It’s like a dam has broken, the words falling from Hux in a desperate, needy tumble. He’s nearly whimpering, his begging hoarse and shattered, a litany of aches only Kylo can soothe.

Groan bleeding into a snarl, the Knight rewards them both, slamming his hips forward to sink inside. With a cry, Hux collapses down, opening up around the thick stretch, until finally, Kylo slides home, filling him to the hilt. The pleasure is a shock to them both, ripping through the built upon tension to leave them gasping and wrecked. Following Hux, Kylo blankets him skin to skin, bracing their tangled hands to the bed.

Then, he begins to move, rocking his hips in a deep, claiming rhythm.


	14. sex toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kink prompt #84, sex toys/plugs

“You’ll be pleased to know,” Hux begins, his tone conversational and his words aimed at the ceiling, “That this week has been quite the success.”

Beneath him, Kylo continues to suck a bruise into his throat, skimming his teeth over the mark and making Hux tut in reprimand. “A _triumph_ , even.”

The Knight grunts, moving onto his collarbone and bites down hard enough to sting. His tolerance for the conversation has clearly reached its limit, presumably because Hux is sitting on his lap, wearing nothing but an undone button up and an anal plug.

The General smothers his satisfaction.

They’re in his office, squeezed into the chair behind his desk. The door is locked and the wall comms are off, leaving them to a moment of privacy during their weekly report. Leaning in when the Knight lifts his face, Hux reaches for the fastening of Kylo’s pants, his cock warm and hard beneath the fabric. Along with his boots, it’s the only clothing left on the other, revealing warm skin and hard muscle. As he slips the pants open, the General drops his mouth to the Knight’s pectoral, mouthing at the bruise there.

“Everything,” He murmurs, thumbing a nipple, “is progressing smoothly.”

Beneath him, Kylo groans, bringing his hands down to grip his ass. The motion jars the plug inside of him, making Hux huff, even as he pushes back into the contact. He’s been wearing it all day, perched on the razor edge of pleasure, and can’t help the anxious twitch of his hips. Admittedly, it had been a gutsy move, wearing the plug - a careful calculation to turn the odds in his favor. Judging by the ragged edge in Ren’s breathing, the risk has begun to pay off.

“These next few weeks are crucial to our agenda,” He murmurs, and doesn’t have to fake the way his breath hitches when Ren dips his fingers between his cheeks, “Timing is everything.”

He had discovered early on that trying to strong arm Kylo was futile. When he had tired of Hux’s delays, the Knight had merely used his size advantage to end the conversation, shoving the General’s face into the mattress to fuck him raw. The chance of him doing so now is the only thing that keeps Hux from grinding down, unwilling to tip his hand, even at the promise of much-needed friction.

Timing is key.

Instead, he lifts the Knight’s cock free, stroking the tense flesh.

“It’s imperative that everyone performs at their best, without distraction.” To blur the words, he kisses them into warm lips, nipping at the flesh there. For long moments, they fight for dominance, a languid back and forth that makes Hux’s mouth tingle and his groin ache. The slide of skin on skin is maddening, their chests pressed tight. Hitched forward by the arm crushed around his waist, Hux shudders, raw-nerved.

He groans into Kylo’s shoulder when the Knight begins to work the plug, pushing after the stretch with hungry nudges. Kylo’s breath is harsh in his ear.

“You’re so ready for it.” He purrs, “For _me_.” 

With a vicious twist, he removes the toy entirely, making Hux clench on emptiness. The hands on his ass are tight and possessive, spreading him out. For a moment, the General nearly forgets why he’s there. More than anyone, Ren is a test of his control. He scrambles to maintain his resolve.

“We -”

The fingers that shove into him are a surprise, strong and thick, curling against his prostate without delay. Almost lifting from his skin, Hux chokes down a cry, his stomach trembling at the new pressure. Catching Kylo’s groan as he rubs against the stretched muscle, hot and slippery, open for him, Hux rolls his hips.

“We - _ah_ \- need every personnel at full function.”

Impatient, Kylo bites at the tendon of his neck, “The point, Hux.” He growls, spreading his knuckles and creating a pleasant ache. His hips begin to buck; short, sharp jerks that drag along the General’s opening and leave him gasping.

“My point, Ren,” With a twist of his fingers, Hux yanks the Knight by his hair, pulling him back far enough to listen, “Is that you have a tendency to slow things down with your terrorizing. I can’t afford to rotate my officers through H.R. or deal with unneeded drama.”

Sneering, Kylo bares his teeth, narrowing his eyes, “Not my problem.”

Feeling his own gaze sharpen, the redhead meets the stare, the tension thickening between them. Finally, he shrugs and begins to shift away. “Suit yourself.”

Startled, Ren grabs him, the sudden emptiness making Hux clench in protest. Despite the throb, he raises a cool brow, his casual posture belaying his need, “As I said, there’s no leeway in our timetable. If you’re unwilling to cooperate -” He makes a pointed move.

“Shit, fuck, wait - _fine_ -”

Large hands catch him before he can slide further, tugging him with frustrated insistence. Pressed against his thigh, Ren’s cock is hard and straining, the dark flesh curved aggressively. Sighing as it nudges against him, already leaking, Hux settles back in place. His smirk is small and pleased.

“Brilliant.”

Without warning, he seats Kylo in a single, firm surge, holding him in place with a slender hand. They both groan, and Hux’s head tips back, the feeling of fullness almost more than he can bear.

“Fuck, yes,” The Knight groans, his hands digging bruises, and begins fucking into him with filthy, audible thrusts. It’s lewd and desperate, made even more so by the leverage they gain when Ren tips them backward, spreading him out across the desk without breaking stride.

For once, Hux can’t help but agree.


	15. phone sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo’s attempts at phone sex don’t go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was way too much fun

The compound they confiscate is a dismal block of concrete lurking just outside of the port, with a heavy exterior as dull and gray as the landscape. As far as mission camps go, it’s better than most, with rudimentary tech already installed.

It’s also painfully boring. The hours pass slowly, ticking by with the same sedate pace the rest of the planet seems to operate on. With two weeks left in their stay, Kylo can feel the bite of restlessness creeping up on him. He scowls at the ceiling, cloistered away after a long day of intel gathering and sparring. There’s only so much to be done while they wait, and even less to do outside of that. They train, they work, and they plot, stuck within the lingering days. Not even the port itself offers a distraction, closing down with the fading light and serving primarily as a watering hole for the locals.

Snorting, Kylo scrubs a hand down his face. He decides his best option is to sleep - an activity he’s never had so much time to partake in and one he’s quickly growing to loathe - and cups himself through his pants. This, at least, has yet to lose its appeal.

With lazy strokes, he works his cock into mild hardness, trying to clear his mind of the tedium. He focuses instead on any image of interest, from past encounters to the holovids he rarely indulges in. Slowly, the fantasy builds - of slick, willing mouths and vulnerable throats, the smack of skin and stinging teeth. For a while, he contents himself that way, dipping beneath his waistline to fist himself in full. It’s not long before the haze becomes distinct, taking on pale curves and a familiar crop of red hair. It falls across a damp brow as the Knight drives into the man they belong to, a pair of gloved hands brace against the console. The images are familiar, bleeding into these sessions more often than not, and make his dick jump in his palm. Hissing, Kylo tightens his strokes, pumping his cock with renewed intent.

Idly, he eyes the comm discarded by his hip.

Hux is probably too busy to take his call, immersed in the day to day chaos of running a ship. Kylo dials anyway, determined to drag his lover into the mire.

‘Ren.’

The stern, clipped answer is enough to tighten his groin, sparking heat along his nerves. It’s a familiar drawl, husky with a fatigue the General is no doubt trying to hide. Smirking, the Knight thumbs over his leaking head, his voice like gravel.

“General.” He purrs.

‘I trust there aren’t any issues.’

He can almost see the annoyed frown tugging at the other’s brow, his lips pursed as he plans contingencies. Chuckling, Kylo quickens his pace, relaxing back into the mattress.

“There aren’t.”

‘Then what do you want? I don’t have time for games, Ren.’

It’s amazing, really, to know how such a posh voice can become so wrecked when the owner of it is filled with cock. Gritting his teeth at a sharp surge of arousal, Kylo lets his breath grow ragged, the slick pump of his fist echoing loudly in the room.

“What are you wearing?”

‘….What?’

“Your clothes, Hux. Tell me what you have on.”

The silence is deafening. Kylo tightens his grip, his lazy strokes gaining fevered purpose. Already, he’s on edge, his body wound tight with pent up frustration, and knows it won’t take long for this to end.

‘Ren-’

Growling, Kylo bares his teeth, his hips flexing viciously.

“ _Now_ , Hux.”

He’s heady with desire, his eyes fluttering closed as the tension mounts. Everything is razor-fine, exploding into vividness after the lethargic drag of days. Hux’s crisp accent is a shock to the system, tumbling him towards his release with startling clarity.

‘For fuck’s sake -’ The irate snarl shoots straight to his dick, shivering through him on a hot tide, ‘Regimentals are standard issue, Ren. Surely even you know that.”

If he weren’t so lost to pleasure, he’d probably laugh. Instead, Kylo jerks himself through a gut-wrenching orgasm, splattering his chest and whiting out to the world around him.

Minutes later, after he finally gathers enough wits to check the comm, he isn’t surprised to find the line dead. His sleep, when it comes, is deep and peaceful.

***

“I miss you.” Kylo purrs, the moment Hux picks up.

Another weary day has come and gone, and the startled beat that passes fills him with petty satisfaction. Even stuck in a monotonous limbo, he still has the power to get under Hux’s skin. It’s a rewarding thought.

The reply through the comm is tense and wary.

‘What is this about?’

Smirking, the Knight stretches out, his hand once wrapped around his cock. Each smooth pull darkens the flush that’s spread across his chest and makes his stomach clench with growing pleasure.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

He lets his words dip low, curling around themselves with heavy suggestion. It’s true that’s he’s been thinking of the other, basking in the memories of sweaty skin and lurid sounds. His dick aches, angry and red with prolonged arousal, desperate for release.

‘…I see.’

Contrary to his words, it’s clear the other doesn’t, and Kylo grins, unable to stop his chuckle. Sometimes, it’s just too easy.

“It’s boring here without you,” He murmurs, “I have all this time and nothing to occupy it.”

The implication is clear, yet Hux continues to remain skeptical, his snort dry and unimpressed.

‘Surely your knights can entertain you, Ren. Or, god forbid, your work.”

It’s all Kylo can do to keep from rolling his eyes or biting out a retort. Instead, he swallows down his annoyance and tries not to question his own sanity for desiring such an annoying little shit.

“Their company isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

Finally, a bit amusement creeps into the other’s tone, “You’re the one who picked them.”

For the love of -

Kylo grits his teeth, calling on his short well of patience.

“That’s not- ”

‘Either way, it’s not my problem. Call me back when you have an actual update.”

“But-”

And just like that, Hux hangs up.

Stunned, and not a little confused, Kylo looks down at his rapidly flagging erection, searching for answers in his heated flesh. When none come, his lips twist wryly.

Well then.

So much for that.

With a sigh, the Knight flops back on his bed, his buzz officially killed, and resigns himself to a long, fruitless night.

***

Let it never be said that Kylo isn’t one to learn from his mistakes.

Although part of him isn’t totally convinced the General isn’t just trying to vex him, he’s been forced to admit - through careful review of the evidence - that he may have made a tactical error. Frustrating as it is, Hux is nothing if not repressed. He wears his control like armor, buttoning himself away beneath coats and dogma until all that remains is the image he wishes to present. Jarring him from his clung-to reserve requires more than a gentle hand.

It’s time to be blunt.

Armed with his new strategy, the Knight feels a bolt of victory when Hux answers the comm, his voice unusually relaxed.

‘Is this going to become a habit?’ He murmurs, the soft sigh a punch in the gut. As much as Kylo thrives on the prickly force of Hux’s nature, so too does he love this pliancy. When Hux is too tired, or Kylo has broken him down enough, he becomes yielding and malleable, surrendering entirely. It’s one of Kylo’s greatest pleasures.

“Tired?”

‘Mm.’ The hum is honey-thick, playing along Kylo’s spine. The admittance alone is enough to tell Kylo just how exhausted the other is. He listens to the gentle sound of breathing for a few moments, savoring the humanity it casts on the General.

“I want to fuck you,” He imagines the flush as it travels down the General’s neck, splotchy and pink, warm on his tongue, “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Despite the intimacy that has grown between them, he knows this, more than anything, is what embarrasses his lover. No matter how many ways the Knight bends him over, or how many times he opens him up with his cock and hands and mouth, it’s the declarations of want that always fluster Hux.

Kylo smirks, waiting for the telltale hitch of breath.

It never comes.

Hux continues to remain silent, filling the line with static.

“…Hux?”

Nothing.

In disbelief, Kylo looks down at his comm, repeating Hux’s name with growing ire. His indignation only rises when the redhead persists, almost as if -

“Are you _asleep_?”

Later, he’ll be thankful the other isn’t conscious enough to hear his sputter of outrage, nor the unholy tirade that follows.

***

He’s still nursing a battered ego when Hux calls him back and answers his comm with a vicious bite. Considering a week has come and gone since they last spoke, his sullenness feels more than a little justified.

Hux, the utter shit, doesn’t bother to notice. Instead, he talks about business as usual, prattling through the weekly updates with enraging calm.

Furious, at both the man himself and his own body’s reaction, Kylo grinds his teeth, refusing to show his temper. If Hux wants to play aloof, Kylo will be damned if he does otherwise.

He jerks himself to the mundane drone of a status report, cumming midway through without satisfaction. He hangs up before Hux can finish, and spends the rest of the evening terrorizing his Knights.

***

Between the isolation and his mood, they complete their work two days ahead of schedule. It’s a relief to head back to base, where there’s more to be done than angry pacing, and where the source of his frustration is once more accessible.

Kylo waits a full thirty-two hours after they land to track the General down. He corners him after his shift, crowding the redhead as soon as he enters his room, “You are infuriating.”

Despite his temper, the words come out a huff, and Hux’s lips twitch, his brow quirking at Kylo’s expense. “It’s called professional integrity, Ren. Perhaps you should try it.”

Pressing him into the door, Kylo bites at that soft, mocking mouth, silencing it with his own. It’s maddening, how quickly his resolve crumples at the contact, lost beneath the feel of hot, surging kisses. A thrill runs through him at the way Hux yields, grabbing onto him with all the intimacy his comm-calls had lacked. He opens for the invasion, arched against the Knight with equal fervor. They’re both breathless, flushed, and Kylo runs greedy hands over the body finally within his reach.

“We need to work on your spontaneity.” He groans. To his surprise, the General grimaces, reddening even further.

Kylo discovers why a few seconds later when he cups the swell of Hux’s ass and squeezes. Even through the material, it’s clear he isn’t wearing underwear.

“ _Oh_.” He breaths, eyes darkening with want.

Maybe some things _are_ better in person.


	16. college au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Kylo smokes cigarettes and wears leather jackets instead of going to class and Hux is the nerd who just won’t take no for an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this prompt](the%20one%20where%20Kylo%20wears%20leather%20jackets%20and%20smokes%20cigarettes%20instead%20of%20going%20to%20class%20and%20Hux%20is%20the%20nerd%20who%20won%E2%80%99t%20take%20no%20for%20an%20answer), and thanks to sir-samus, who tagged me on the post to write something for it c:

Kylo leans against the brick wall of the student center, dragging in deep from a cigarette. The smoke warms his chest, filling his mouth with menthol, and eases back out of him in a lazy haze. He’s late for his lecture, but with a hangover pounding at his temples, his will to care is quickly slipping away. Instead, he satisfies his nicotine fix and contemplates skipping his class entirely. The day is clear and bright, the spot he’s settled in surprisingly quiet.

Sighing, Kylo watches as his fellow students bustle by, his lips twitching at the wide berth they give him. In the two years since his transfer, he’s gotten used to the benefits that come with being known as the resident asshole. Besides allowing him to bypass tedious school functions, he’s come to find most of his peers are either too intimidated to approach him, or too busy to care. Pleased, the literature major stretches, the leather of his coat rasping against the stone. His back twinges, reminding him of the scratches left by a recent hookup, and his throat feels whiskey-raw.

All in all, it’s been a good week.

Smugly, Kylo flicks the ash off his cigarette. He contemplates what excuse to use for his latest absence, and in the lull between classes, begins to drift. A hush falls across the campus, interrupted only by the rustle of birds. The warmth of the afternoon seeps slowly into his skin.

“Ren.”

He doesn’t shriek like a little girl, but it’s a near thing. Rearing back, his hand flies to his chest, clutching absurdly, and his shoulders screw to his ears, “ _Jesus Christ!_ ”

The boy beside him quirks a manicured brow, waiting patiently for him to gather his wits. Clothed in a crisp button-down, he looks more like an accountant than a student, with thin-framed glasses and neat hair. Heart pounding, Kylo tries to place their connection and vaguely recalls sharing a course together the semester prior. Annoyed, his tone is purposely abrasive as he straightens to his full height.

“Yeah?”

To his astonishment, the other flushes, a gentle pink suffusing the tops of his cheeks. Clearing his throat, the boy -  _Hux_   - nudges his glasses up.

“I was wondering if you’d be available to join me Friday evening for a film.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but when they do, Kylo can’t help but gape. Flummoxed, he stares at the boy, his cigarette dangling from his mouth idiotically.

“What?”

Shifting, Hux tightens his arms around his books, “It’s supposed to be very good. I’ve read a few reviews.”

Thrown, Kylo manages to scrap the pieces of his brain together long enough to ascertain that no, he hasn’t entered some alternate reality. He has, for all intents and purposes, just been asked on a date. His headache rises, reminding him of all the ways he’s not prepared to handle this conversation. Deciding that the best defense is a good offense, Kylo turns back to his post, dismissing the other with a glare.

“No.”

A heartbeat passes before Hux moves, brows set thoughtfully. He nods, undeterred, and turns to leave, “Another time, then.”

Watching him go, Kylo continues to inwardly boggle at the topsy-turvy world he’s managed to stumble into. Not for the first time, he wonders if Phasma might not have a point when she snarks about all of the alcohol he consumes fermenting his brain.

Slowly, the peace of the afternoon resettles around him. Assured he’s managed to dodge whatever bullet the universe had deigned to lob at him, Kylo pulls out another cigarette.

Just in case, though, he skips the rest of the day and retreats back to the safety of his flat.

***

A week later Kylo has all but forgotten the strange incident. His cycle of booze and partying has successfully blurred another week into the last, giving him a false sense of normalcy that finds itself interrupted during his trek across campus. It takes him longer than it should to place the boy before him.

“Ren.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickles at the prim tone, suspiciously familiar, and a quiet sense of doom begins to fill him. Guardedly, he eyes the redhead.

“Hux.”

The boy is once more the picture of corporate formality, his slacks neatly pressed and his button-down tucked in. He looks pleasantly surprised by Kylo’s knowledge of his name, his expression torn between stoic aloofness and embarrassed delight.

“I hope your weekend went well,” He begins, rushing on before Kylo can retort, “If this upcoming one isn’t as busy, I was hoping you might reconsider that movie.”

Kylo opens his mouth. Closes it again. Stares. When it becomes apparent that the other won’t be run off by silence alone, he sets his jaw, mustering as much thunderous temper as he can.

“Fuck off.”

This time, he all but plows through the boy, shoving past him and doggedly refusing to allow a reply. Instead, he books it towards his lecture hall without looking back and tells himself it isn’t running away.

***

After that, it becomes a routine.

Every week, like clockwork, Hux manages to track him down, cornering him in parking lots or walkways to extend his polite invitation. Every week, like clockwork, Kylo shoots him down, rejecting each offer with as much vehemence as he can. By the time a month has come and gone, he’s turned down three movies, numerous coffees, and - on one special occasion - a book fair. He’s beginning to feel a bit like a broken record.

To Kylo’s dismay, this does nothing to deter the boy.

Instead, his surliness just seems to encourage Hux, provoking a stubbornness that might have been impressive had Kylo not been the one on the other end of it. It’s infuriating, to have so little sway over someone. Ever since his growth spurt in the tenth grade, when he had gone from the awkward emo kid to the brooding giant, it had been easy enough to chase people away. He’s spent too long cultivating his reputation and getting kicked out of bar fights to be bested now. He refuses to back down now.

At least, that’s what he tells himself, loitering by the campus vending machines. He’s not hiding, per say - he’s  _resting_. If this just happens to mean he’s partially covered by a giant soda dispenser as he does, then so be it. It’s not his fault the wall there is so comfortable.

Trying to look as casual as possible, Kylo shuffles another handful of M&Ms into his hand, forcing his fingers to loosen their death grip on the bag. That he flings them all over the place ten seconds later, when Hux catches him by surprise, means nothing.

“Shit!” Banging his elbow as he jerks around, eyes wide, Kylo only has a second to appreciate the startled look on Hux’s face as he’s pelted with candy, the flyaways bouncing off the floor and scattering across the room. To his credit, the redhead is quick to recover, grimacing in apology.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Scowling, his heart jackrabbiting so hard it might as well be playing on a loudspeaker, Kylo snarls, “You didn’t.”

The amused eyebrow Hux lifts at him does little to quell his annoyance.   

“Hey,” Blinking, Kylo snaps his mouth shut, his gaze jumping to a third man hovering just outside of their space. The stranger’s arms are crossed, and his brow is knit in telltale concern, “Is this guy bothering you?”

That Hux is the one the question is directed to is an irony that isn’t lost on Kylo. He can just imagine how they must look standing there - Hux with his slender bird bones and cardigan, and Kylo in his leather and scowl.

Hux, the bastard, only rolls his eyes at the show of concern, cutting off Kylo’s emphatic ‘yes’ with a shake of his head.

“No, Poe, I’m fine.”

Regarding them suspiciously for a moment longer, the man finally nods, leaving with an unsubtle reminder that he’ll be just ahead if Hux’s needs anything. _Hah._

As if.

Mood darkening even further, Kylo lets the familiar bitterness sharpen his tone, “He’s right, you know. I’m not the sort of guy you should be hanging around.”  

Hux’s flat, unimpressed look shouldn’t warm him as much as it does, “Don’t be an idiot.”

This time, when Kylo denies the inevitable request, even he’s not sure he believes it.

***

He should have known disaster was inevitable.

He really, _really_  should have.

Staring in horror as Hux approaches the table he and Phasma have procured on the quad, Kylo silently wills the redhead to just keep walking. He doesn’t.

“Ren.”

Even from across the way, Kylo can feel his best friend’s bewilderment and curses the color he can feel rushing into his face. Clearing his throat, brow drawn peevishly, the lit major mutters a gruff acknowledgment. Like a hound with a scent, Phasma perks up, her gaze boring into him with wicked amusement. Fuck.

“These are for you.”

Blinking down at the pack of M&Ms Hux is holding like an olive branch, Kylo swallows, a startled warmth buzzing in his chest.

“To replace the ones from last time.”

For the first time since he began pestering Kylo, the smooth demeanor Hux wears falters, embarrassment making him fidget. Nervously, Hux flicks a glance to Phasma, whose glee is all but palpable. His shoulders straighten, his resolve visible as he forges on despite the flush darkening his face. Kylo takes the candy, trying not to find the bravado endearing.

“If you’re free this weekend, there’s a play I’ve been hoping to see. I have an extra ticket -”

“I’m busy.”

“Oh.” Hux’s shoulders lower, a subtle deflating that Kylo is appalled to find makes his chest twinge. Phasma’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline.

“With what?” She asks.

Glaring at the she-devil that is his best friend, Kylo kicks her under the table, “ _Things_.”

The narrow look he gets promises a slow and painful death, as does the return kick that nearly takes out his shin, “ _What_  things?”

He’s saved from scrambling for an excuse when Hux interjects, his brow knit and posture stiff, “Perhaps another time, then.”

Cursing Phasma, himself, and life in general, Kylo watches the redhead retreat, something uncomfortable clenching in his stomach at the expression that had been on Hux’s face before he left. Of all the times Kylo has rejected his overtures, this one seems to have hit in a way the others hadn’t. Kylo tells himself the sinking feeling in his gut is relief.

Across from him, Phasma waits a full thirty seconds, her lips twitching with the grin she’s just barely holding back, “He’s cute.”

Kylo scowls.

“More like a pain in the ass,” He complains, stabbing vehemently at his lunch to cover his guilt, “He’s been doing this for weeks.”

“Hux, isn’t it?” With a thoughtful hum, Phasma contemplates the figure retreating down the walkway. The feeling of dread returns tenfold, and Kylo braces for the teasing he knows is coming, “I’ve seen him debate a few times - the kid’s a pit bull.”

Kylo nearly drops his fork, his brows shooting high, “When the hell did  _you_ go to a debate meet?”

She waves off his words, clearly unswayed by his disbelief, “He’s obviously got it bad for you.”

Kylo’s pulse gives a traitorous uptick at the thought. Clearing his throat, and sending a half-hearted glare at the woman across from him, Kylo continues prodding at his food mutinously.

“So?”

She levels a look at him like he’s being particularly daft.

“ _So_ ,” She drawls, in a tone of exasperation that only someone who’s been fielding his bullshit since toddlerhood can muster, “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Defensiveness makes him harsh. He’s always been better at lashing out than dealing with unwanted emotion. “The jumped up little shit probably doesn’t even know what a date  _is_.”

“All the more reason to show him how it’s done.”

And doesn’t  _that_  stir up some interesting thoughts. Kylo tenses, arousal warring with mortification, and puts enough irritation in his glare to scorch the pavement, “Who says I’m even interested?”

Phasma, damn her, just smirks at him, like she knows exactly what he’s thinking.

***

The problem is, now that Phasma’s gone and planted the idea in his head, it’s suddenly become the only thing Kylo can think about. It’s not that he hadn’t noticed Hux was attractive before. He’s severe, and too put together by far, but beneath all the rigidness his mouth is soft and full, his eyes alarmingly gray. There’s a wry humor that dances just on the edge of their encounters, and a sharp intellect that promises afternoons lost in conversation and debate.

Worse, once he starts noticing things, he can’t seem to stop. Despite his best effort, Kylo finds himself cataloging the other. His clothes are always pressed and professional, but his red chucks are ragged, so at odds with the rest of him that Kylo can’t help but stare. The shadows beneath his eyes speak to long nights studying, and his fingers always seem to be smudged with ink.

He’s obviously successful and driven, which begs the question what the hell he’s doing pursuing Kylo in the first place. That, more than anything, keeps Kylo on edge.

“Look,” He begins one day, a hangover and five thousand words on medieval symbolism having done their best to kick his ass. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove here - whether you’re trying to piss off your parents or have some rom-com bad boy kink, but whatever you’re looking for, I’m not it.”

The affronted look is so vehement Kylo takes a step back, his pulse tripping at the genuine offense playing out on Hux’s face. He’s well and truly angry, his gaze flashing as he struggles to express his outrage.  

“ _Fuck you_ , Ren.” If looks could kill, he’d be flayed and buried.

Kylo might be a little bit smitten.

***

It takes two weeks for Hux to approach him again. Kylo won’t admit to feeling relieved when he does, or to the pack of M&Ms that may or may not have found its way into the redhead’s bag as an apology.

He does, however, say yes to a date.

It’s unclear which one of them is more surprised.

***

Kylo isn’t sure what he had been expecting when he agreed to a movie with Hux. Part of him had figured he’d end up sleeping through some existential nightmare or zoning out through lingering landscapes. Another had definitely been prepared for subtitles.

What he gets is the latest alien thriller.

Watching the jaw get torn off a supporting character not even ten minutes into the film, he tries not to gap. Hux doesn’t even blink. Instead, he offers Kylo his box of candy, his gaze caught on the grotesque creatures terrorizing the screen.

Kylo spends the rest of the movie watching Hux instead of the screen, and can’t even find it in himself to care.

***

“Well, this is me.”

They’re standing outside a modest apartment complex, the night quiet and cool between them. Trying not to fidget, Kylo just barely manages to keep from wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. He’s never been one for first date jitters, but standing there, with the streetlamps deepening the cut of Hux’s cheekbones and the redhead staring at him expectantly, he feels clumsy and awkward.

“Right. Well.” Stumbling over the words, Kylo shoves his hands into his pockets. His movements feel stiff and wooden, his throat too dry to swallow. “Goodnight.”

“Oh.” And damn it all, if Hux doesn’t look slightly disappointed. Kylo’s pulse thunders loudly in his ears. “Goodnight, then.”

In the end, it’s the rueful little smile he gives, as if it makes total sense that Kylo doesn’t want to kiss him, that propels Kylo the last few inches forward.

Any hope Kylo had that their chemistry would be off dies a brutal, violent death the moment their lips touch. A sigh escapes Hux, soft and sweet, and Kylo can’t help but groan when he opens up to let him in. It’s electricity in his veins, shorting out his ability to think. Hux’s face fits perfectly in his hands, and his mouth, when they pull back, is red and wet. The next kiss is harder, deeper, and still impossibly good.

Kylo is so incredibly fucked.


	17. uniform kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cadet uniform fits like a glove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this was a fill for fantasy/wish fulfillment, but since cadet!hux is my kryptonite, it sorta became uniform kink too

The cadet uniform fits like a glove. Kylo is struck by the image of it, clinging to Hux’s thighs and chest in a manner his typical regalia never would. Already his cock gives an interested twitch, the heat of his gaze caught on the belted waistline and the way it draws attention to Hux’s hips. **  
**

Straightening from his perch, Kylo stalks a slow circle around his lover. In the spirit of the Knight’s request, Hux has left his hair loose, the soft strands tucked under his cap and curling gently at his cheeks. The effect is staggering, taking the years from him so that Kylo can almost imagine the boy Hux had once been. Ambitious and fierce, forever striving to prove himself. He stands at attention now, back straight and arms clasped behind his back, with a defiant tilt to his chin. His eyes gleam with sly knowing, revealing the General beneath his disguise. A shock of heat goes through Kylo at the contrast.

Everything is just tight enough to tease, outlining Hux’s body in a tantalizing mix of discipline and fantasy.

“Sir.”

The address is respectful, holding the obedience owed to Kylo by his station, but the mouth it falls from is insolent, as if Hux knows just how hard Kylo is from the word alone. It only fuels the fire of his want, adding to the defiant image of a cadet in need of punishment. Baring his teeth, Kylo looms over the other, a force unto himself.

“I have little patience for rule breakers, boy.”

Something dark flashes in the winter-blue of Hux’s gaze, an angry audacity that calls to something equally dark in Kylo. Gripping his chin, Kylo forces the redhead to look at him, admiring the contrast of his glove against pale skin.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

For a long moment, there is only charged silence. Hux’s eyes narrow in challenge, but his throat works as he swallows, wetting his lips in a mixture of nerves and rebellion.

“No," A pause, "...Sir.”

Frown curving into a smirk, the Knight purrs, “Good.”

***

Hux’s hat has long since been knocked free, making room for Kylo’s fist to hold him down. Tightening his grip, he widens his stance, perched on the edge of the desk with Hux knelt between his legs. A jolt of pleasure tears through him as the redhead chokes, his mouth spread wide on Kylo’s dick. It’s a struggle to fit so much of him, but Kylo makes him anyway, eyes fluttering shut. It is, after all, a punishment.

Purring at the hitch of breath Hux steals, he flexes forward, fucking relentlessly into the General’s throat. A shiver hits his spine when the other just  _takes_  it, jaw loose and cheeks flushed, his tongue pressed to Kylo’s cock. He makes a pretty picture, with his raw red mouth and wet lashes, and the Knight can’t help the way his hips piston, earning more filthy sounds. He’s only halfway in, but it doesn’t matter, not when Hux hollows his cheeks, throat velvet hot, trying to please.

And he  _is_  trying to please. Despite the defiant glare and prickly attitude, he swallows, face flushing deeply at Kylo’s groan. The cadet uniform only adds to the thrill of it, turning the General into an eager subordinate stuck beneath Kylo’s mercy.

His knees must surely be aching and his jaw burning, his voice likely wrecked, but Hux continues on, pushing closer, sucking harder.

It is, Kylo thinks, thrusting harshly, one of the best ideas he’s ever had. Watching Hux struggle, trembling as his face is fucked, his pupils blown and chin wet, he knows the feeling is mutual.


	18. role reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Ren is just as Hux remembers him.

His footsteps are clipped as he marches across the bridge, alerting those around him to the foulness of his mood. Tension is thick among his subordinates, permeating the air to create a hush. **  
**

One step and then another. The General paces.

When he reaches the intended console, his movements cut short, his posture sharp and precise. Gloved fingers pull up data, creating a hologram that broadcasts their failures. A frown carves his mouth.

“Sir.” An officer steps just within the General’s perimeter, lurking nervously. He swallows audibly, his voice wavering with news he doesn’t wish to speak.

For a brief moment, anger ripples across features that are otherwise stoic, and when he addresses his subordinate, the General’s tone is whipcord tight, “Report.”

“It’s the droid, Sir.” If possible, the officer’s shoulders curl even further inward, “We’ve lost it.”

The silence that descends on the bridge is electric.

“…Explain.”

Although the General makes no movement, held rigid in his military parade, the officer flinches anyway. The cold fury of the demand is hard enough to wound.

“There was…interference.” By now the panic is plain, draining the officer of color and vibrating through his body. It’s clear he’s been set on a fool’s errand, and his words stutter, forced from his throat by duty, “The scavenger and traitor had help, Sir. Our men did as instructed but-”

“Who?”

“…S-sir?”

“ _Who?_ ”

This time, the fear is palpable.

“…Your uncle’s ward, Sir. The Dissenter.”

The tension snaps. With a savage roar, the General slams his fist down, blitzing the projections, and continues until the panel ruptures and his rage turns to flesh.

When he’s done, the officer is in an unrecognizable heap on the floor, his face mangled and body still.

Panting hard, the General straightens, his hair loose from its careful slick. Brushing it back, he smooths the faint rumple in his uniform, ignoring the shine of blood on his gloves. Still slightly breathless, he turns to the terrified form of a nearby lieutenant, his voice once more controlled.

“Prepare my ship.”

“..Sir-”

“That is not a request.”  

Snapping to attention, the man nods frantically, scrambling to comply. The General watches on, the only sign of his outburst a fading flush of rage and a series of overturned chairs.

Behind him, the console sparks and hisses. At his feet, the body of his officer remains unmoving.

Quietly, Kylo Ren seethes, filling the room with violence.

***

_Maz and her wretched castle._

Not for the first time, Hux curses the universe and its sick sense of humor.

As if the Rathars weren’t enough, now he’s stuck wading through a mass of brawling lowlifes. Hux lunges, trying to catch up to the retreating form of their Trooper. He barely manages to dodge a flying elbow, and with an agitated wave of his hand, blasts those nearest him with a quick push of Force. The brawlers stumble back, too caught up in their havoc to stop. Utilizing the new space, he makes it free of the castle in record time and just manages to spot the back of Finn’s head as he climbs onto a gangplank.

“Finn! For the love of- _wait_!”

The boy in question tenses, clearly steeling himself for an argument. Scowling, Hux is ready to do just that when his spine prickles and everything sharpens. It takes every ounce of control he has not to let the panic take him and to keep breathing. Instead, he slows to a stop, his eyes riveted to the sky, and barely notices Finn following the same impulse, the implication clear. His pulse is thundering, quick with a primal warning, and his ears fill with static.

Above them, the sky erupts in a blaze of red.

The hum becomes a scream.

***

For all that he doesn’t understand this ridiculous task that Skywalker has given him, the one thing he does know is that they have to stick together. He can feel it deep within himself, in the same well of insight that saw him deserting the Order when he was barely a teen. It’s a drive stronger than his own blood, guiding him with an instinct linked to the Force. If they’re to succeed, they can’t be divided.

Which is how Hux finds himself running through a forest, chasing down the scavenger and her bratty droid. The sound of fighting echoes loudly from the shore, disrupting the quiet with blaster whines and clanking armor. Hux focuses on it, letting the clamor keep his mind from the haunting wail that echoes in his bones. An entire star system, torn asunder. It’s almost too much to bear.

He pushes on, gritting his teeth against the throbbing grief that threatens to rise. It hadn’t been long after the beam had stopped that the First Order had landed, spilling out foot soldiers to ravage the land. Chaos had been immediate, and for once Hux is grateful to be surrounded by the criminal underbelly, most of whom have no qualms with fighting dirty and have bought him the time he needs to get the girl.

Trees whip past him, the forest eerily calm in the afternoon light. Racing towards his ward, Hux grapples with his training, calling on its numbness to hone his focus. In times of discord, it has always served to ground him.

_There is no emotion, only peace.  
_ _There is no chaos, only harmony._

He takes out a stray Trooper with a grunt and a crack, his saber humming madly in his palm. They go down with a thud, but he’s already tearing forward, his senses screaming at him to go. There are bigger threats to worry about.

Nearby, a frantic round of blaster fire leads him left, while a drone of a saber makes his heart skip.

He feels Rey’s terror before he sees them, standing in a parody of a duel atop an outcrop. His charge is frozen before the intimidating figure of the First Order’s General, her body straining against a phantom hold.

Kylo Ren is just as Hux remembers him.

Broad and tall, his thick musculature is emphasized by the tailored lines of his uniform, and his hair is pulled back in a neat bun. His stance is a pillar of control but his face betrays him, reflecting his temper and the monsters lurking within.

He’s also just as powerful.

The air around them hums with energy, Ren’s presence nearly palpable.

Dampening his presence, Hux reaches out, the Force singing in his veins. The way Ren jerks in surprise is deliciously satisfying, as is his expression when shock makes him falter. It’s enough for Rey to break free, staggering back with a cry and firing her blaster. Ren blocks the shots, but he’s distracted, trying to find the source of the disruption.

“Hello, Ren.” Hux grins, a savage baring of teeth that immediately snaps the General’s focus to him. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Rey startles, clearly relieved by his appearance, but spares her no more than a sharp glance. He’s relieved to find she’s as clever as he’d hoped, inching away from Ren as the General stares him down. The regard is nearly overwhelming, the other’s mask cracking beneath his rage, and a familiar thrill begins in his gut. Despite the seriousness of the situation, his blood sings with anticipation.

“Miss me?”

The snarl he receives, right before the other lunges, is all the answer he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure which roles the prompter was looking to be reversed, but I actually really love the idea of Ren as the General and Hux as the side-switching protege. Hope you guys liked it!


	19. jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because the universe is having none of his shit, Hux gets caught just shy of making it to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second kink fill for roseoflannister! Possessive Kylo is my /jam/.

Hux doesn’t often drink to excess. Part of this is simply schematics - star destroyers, even ones as large as the  _Finalizer_ , must be prudent with their storage. Alcohol, readily available in ports, is hardly worth the cargo space required to keep it en mass. Furthermore, running a dry ship ensures a clean operation, cutting down on the opportunity for misconduct and insubordination.  

Mostly, though, the General’s abstinence is a personal preference. The loss of control and inhibition that comes with being drunk is hardly worth the few hours of inebriation it takes to get there, particularly when Hux is forced to suffer through the embarrassment of remembering it all later. A glass of wine or snifter of brandy after a vexing day is one thing, but as far as Hux is concerned, nothing good has ever come from allowing himself to get wasted. Nothing.

Case in point: waking up in a room he doesn’t recognize.

Groaning, the General tries to move, but is quickly cured of the notion when his entire body protests. His stomach rolls, threatening to purge, and the ceiling sways above him. By the time it settles, the headache pounding in his temples has all but doubled, forcing a string of epithets from between his teeth. All things considered, it isn’t a promising start.

Things only worsen when the bed shifts, alerting him to the man stretched out naked beside him. Fuck and shit.

He can only hope he was smart enough to choose someone discrete.

Blinking into a more coherent state, Hux tries to scowl his hangover into submission. It doesn’t work, the task made infinitely harder by the way his brain sloshes in his skull. Now that he’s begun to acclimate, he’s becoming aware of other, more alarming signs from his body. His knees twinge, protesting the motion of sitting up, and a bleary memory surfaces of dropping down on them, followed swiftly by a tug to his hair. Every swallow stings.

Chagrined, Hux manages to get his feet on the floor, aware of the heavy gaze settled on his back. Ignoring the man, he scans around for his clothes, relieved to find them relatively close. His throat is on fire, his mouth filled with the taste of sex. Lip curling in disdain, the redhead stands with careful deliberation, grateful at least that they hadn’t gotten beyond heavy petting.

The hand on his back makes him stiffen, as does the smug look on the pilot’s face when Hux shoots a glare over his shoulder. He doesn’t remember meeting the man, or what they talked about. Instead, he recalls impressions - bitter precum and the steady slide of a cock on his tongue. The burn of each thrust and how the other filled his throat. Then, afterward, a quick, tight fist stroking him to release.

Cringing at the uncomfortable mess still on his body, Hux dresses quickly, haphazardly pulling on enough clothing to be decent. They’re near enough to the General’s room that the chance of slipping back unnoticed is high, a prospect Hux clings to as he stumbles towards the door.

Behind him, the x-fighter settles back in bed, content and thankfully silent.

***

Because the universe is having none of his shit, Hux gets caught just shy of making it to his room. The hallway is empty, and his entire focus is on the promise of the hot shower that awaits him at his goal. He doesn’t see the other until they almost collide, the abruptness of it all causing him to stumble. A pair of hands stabilize him before he can humiliate himself, but even then it takes all of his willpower not to puke on the shoes of his would-be rescuer. It’s a show of restraint he quickly regrets.

“General.”

Kylo Ren’s smirking face swims into focus before him, mocking him with a quirked brow.

Painfully aware of his less than pristine state, Hux tries to straighten, the heat of Kylo’s palms on his shoulders unfairly distracting. Even worse, the Knight has yet to reclaim his personal space and is standing close enough to touch. Beneath Hux’s indignant flush, his dark eyes drop down in a curious once-over, lingering on his unbuttoned shirt and lack of shoes.

“Ren.” It hurts to speak, as if he’s pushing the words through ground glass, and immediately Hux knows he’s made a mistake. Ren’s eyes narrow, sharpening with question. Unable to return his gaze, the redhead nods to the figure just behind the Knight’s shoulder, “Phasma.”

Because of course, he’s been caught by not just one, but  _two_  members of his command team. Wonderful.

Not in the mood for the backhanded comments and digs, he takes a pointed step away. Ren is studying him intently, with an expression he can’t read and quickly decides he doesn’t want to.

“Rough night?”

Mouth twitching in displeasure, Hux straightens his shoulders, trying desperately not to dwell on his fucked out appearance and lack of professionalism. A flash of irritation beats through him at Ren’s sneer, the bastard clearly enjoying cornering Hux at such a disadvantage. It makes him reckless, waspish.

“Yes. Now if you don’t mind, I need to freshen up before I’m due on post.”

Ren opens his mouth to retort but whatever he means to say, Hux will never know, because just then a familiar, half-naked form jogs into view.

“General!”

Hux’s spine goes rigid. Mother of hell.

It’s the pilot from before and he’s holding a pair of gloves. Vaguely, he’s aware of Phasma snorting somewhere behind Ren, but refuses to give her the satisfaction of reacting. Next to him, the Knight goes tense, his face darkening in a way that makes Hux swallow tightly.

He is never drinking again.

Greeting the other with a curt nod, and slightly embarrassed to realize he doesn’t even remember the man’s name, Hux fights off a scowl at the leer he receives in return. Drunken blowjobs aside, Hux is still the superior officer and the skel could at least _try_  to be professional. His fingers twitch for his blaster when he’s gifted with a languid once over, his teeth gritting at the inappropriate grin that follows, “You forgot these at mine.”

Staring in disbelief at the imbecile airing his private business in front of two other commanding officers, Hux makes a mental note to look into demotion guidelines when he gets back into his office. With a show of restraint that even he’s impressed by, Hux takes his gloves back, the air thick with tension. Phasma clears her throat, visibly torn between amusement and vexation.

“Is that all?” His voice is sharp, but the pilot merely hums, clearly pleased with himself. And just like that Hux is done.

Done with the day, done with his headache, and done with inappropriate subordinates.

Turning on his heel, the redhead stomps the final few feet to his room with as much dignity as he can muster. He enters without a word of farewell or even a glance behind.

As far as he’s concerned, the sooner this mess is over, the better.

***

Predictably, the shower does little to help with his hangover. He decides to field his assignments from his office rather than through rounds, and has no shame in locking himself away with dimmed lights and a mug of tea. Even after slamming down painkillers, his head is still throbbing, his voice all but gone.

Unsurprisingly, it’s not the best day he’s ever had.

Luckily, there’s enough report filing and budget work to keep him busy, and he gives express orders not to be disturbed, no matter the circumstance. For a few hours, he immerses himself in bureaucracy, trying to drown out the echoes of his earlier embarrassment. It works, albeit not brilliantly, but still. Beggars can’t be choosers.

He should have known it wouldn’t last.

The knock is tentative, the officer it belongs to even more so.

“I’m sorry, sir, I know you said not to disturb you, but there’s been an incident and the Captain said only you can see to it.”  


Sighing, Hux places down his holopad, pinching the bridge of his nose. If Phasma says the matter is his jurisdiction, then there’s nothing for it. “What is it?”

“There’s been an altercation.”

Hux tries not to let his impatience show, “And?”

“Ren-”

Not quite ready to hear the Knight’s name so soon after the debacle of the morning, Hux rolls his eyes, cutting into the flow of words, “Is that all? This is nothing new, Lieutenant. I’m sure the Captain can handle it on her own.”

“But…”

“No. File the incident report and I’ll get to it when I can. Otherwise, I want nothing to do with this.”

The officer looks on the verge of protesting, so Hux levels his best glare, stern and authoritative, “Is that all?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. Get out.”

The way the other scrambles to obey is satisfying enough to give Hux hope for the rest of his shift.

***

Truly, he only has himself to blame for the knock that comes a few hours later. He should never have assumed anything good would come from this day. This time, the knock is firm and the person on the other end doesn’t wait for permission to enter.

Rubbing his temples, Hux levels a baleful look at Phasma, who watches him back with mild amusement. He hasn’t bothered buttoning his jacket, and the collar of his shirt is undone, adding to the rumpled look of his unstyled hair and the shadows under his eyes. Normally, he’d be more appalled at his own lack of decor, never one for slacking, but frankly, he’s just too drained to care. Instead, Hux sighs, sitting back.

“What do you want.”

It’s too flat to be a question, but Phasma merely smirks, folding her arms across her chest, “You’re ignoring your duties, General.”

Rolling his eyes, Hux doesn’t bother pretending he doesn’t know why she’s there, “Spare me. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not Ren’s minder and his tantrums aren’t anything you haven’t dealt with before.”

“Did you read the actual report?”

“It’s not exactly new material.”

The smug knowing in her gaze immediately raises his guard, “Oh, I don’t know - it seemed pretty interesting to me..”

Frowning, and casting a suspicious look at his Captain, Hux picks up his holopad, scrolling for the document in question. It doesn’t take long to find, and skimming it, he still isn’t sure what she expects from him. Admittedly, there’s more than one event, a list of incidents and small-scale terrorizing, including the fight he was informed about.

Though, reading the details, perhaps ‘fight’ is too ambitious of a term. It implies a two-sided participation that’s clearly lacking.

Going down the summary - a routine training module that ended with Ren thrashing one of the trainees - Hux feels his brows climb to his hairline.  

Even for Ren, the beating seems excessive. His temper aside, outright battery is rare, and the table of injuries sustained is mildly alarming. Fractured jaw, broken nose, cracked ribs. A concussion.

“…’groin injury’?”

Hux tries not to gape. What does that even  _mean_?

Still, Ren is temperamental. And prone to violent outbursts.

As if sensing his reluctance, Phasma leans forward, her expression too eager to bode well, “Look who the other officer involved is.”

Brows knit, Hux scrolls back to the log, browsing the unfamiliar profile, and -

 _Oh_.

A very familiar pilot stares back at him.

Well shit.

***  

The doors can’t close fast enough behind Hux when he returns to his room later that cycle. Finally, he can put an end to this nightmare of a day. His hangover has abated enough for his exhaustion to take the forefront and all he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep forever.

Shucking off his jacket and padding towards the sidebar, the General splashes brady into a glass, ignoring his earlier resolve to quit drinking. He’s still not sure what the implications are of Ren’s outburst, whether it was an attempt to screw with Hux’s equilibrium or just a coincidence, but he doesn’t plan on dwelling.

At least, that’s what he tells himself until the Knight in question comes storming into his quarters a short while later. Tension clings to him like a storm, darkening his eyes and filling the space with the oppressive weight of his displeasure.

Bracing himself, Hux sneers and tries not to take an instinctive step back. The hair at the back of his neck stands on end, his awareness of the other amplified by the outpouring temper.

“Sleeping with subordinates, Hux?” Kylo spits, full of venom, “Even for you, that’s pathetic.”

Jaw dropping in outrage, the redhead slams his glass down, overcome by his own fury, “What I do in my personal time is none of your concern.”

The entirety of the day rolls into him then, thundering in his blood and washing away his fatigue with a burst of adrenaline. He’s so angry he’s trembling, the hostility between them rocketing into violence.

“Like hell it doesn’t!” The snarl is so vehement, Hux’s stomach drops, even as his own rage mounts to new heights. His scoff goes off like a gunshot.

“ _You_  of all people have  _no right_  to judge my conduct! How dare-”

Ren explodes into motion with a growl, and Hux tenses for the punch he knows is coming. He’s looking forward to it - to finally having it out with Ren and finding an outlet for the tension. Instead, he finds himself crowded aggressively against the wall, the Knight a solid barrier of muscle caging him in. A large hand grips his chin, forcing him to meet the dark eyes burning into him.

“You will come to me and only me when you’re in need. Is that clear?” To emphasize his point, he jars the redhead, pinning him in place, but Hux is too stunned to care. His mind blanks, his lips parted with words he doesn’t have. It’s so pompous, so high-handed and demanding that for a moment he can only stare, indignation and anger warring with his disbelief. He’s aware a flush has crawled into his face, can feel the heat of it, and his pulse is beating so fast he can nearly taste it.

“Are - are you  _jealous_?” A laugh, hysterical and wild, catches in the back of his throat. Kylo slams his fist into the wall, a few scant inches from his face, but Hux merely snarls, his body a frenzy of hot and cold, “You arrogant, presumptuous  _son of a_ -”   

Kylo’s mouth, vicious and demanding, cuts him off. There is no tease, no gentle introduction. Just clawing, frantic need, overwhelming him and stealing his breath in lush, wicked kissing. He kisses back before he can stop himself, angry and aroused, thrumming with anticipation. They bite and lick, shove and pull, colliding in raw-nerved violence. A thigh shoved between his own makes his breath hitch, and harsh hands bruise his hips, leaving him dizzy.

When they finally pull back, panting heavily, Hux is dazed, his mouth wet and bruised. Ren isn’t much better, staring down at him with possessive zeal. His voice is rough and deep, shivering low in Hux’s spine.

“I’m going to  _wreck_  you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy what you've read? Feel free to [send a prompt](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/ask) of your own!
> 
> [kink prompts](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/145029608715/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill) / [au prompts](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/173073253065/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-shortau%20prompts)  
> Comment prompts also welcome. c:


	20. prison au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prison AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS: NONCON, VIOLENCE, GORE**  
>  noncon is brief and not between kylux, but if it's not sth you're comfortable with you might want to skip the first block of text. 
> 
> for anon on tumblr! who prompted AU #37, meeting in prison

They jump him in the shower, two days after he arrives. It’s four against one and despite Hux’s best efforts, he finds his face shoved against the wet tile and his ass held in the air. He claws and snarls, thrashes and yells, but by the time the guards arrive, he’s bleeding and torn. Cum leaks down his thighs, dribbles over his lower back, and stings abused flesh.

Despite the humiliation and agony, he survives his first prison fight. It’s not his last.

***

His third fight finds him ramming a plastic fork into the eye of one of his attackers. They’re both panting from the scuffle, bruised from fists and teeth. Hux snarls, copper-wet beneath his nose, and shoves until the membrane gives way. The man is screaming, trying frantically to throw Hux off, but the redhead merely twists, pushing harder to create pulp.

It’s one of the inmates from the shower - large and bald, the vein in his neck bulging as he yowls. Rough hands grab Hux, who fights the guards trying to separate them. He spits on the pathetic figure writhing in his wake, his lips pulled back in a feral grin.

“Touch me again and I’ll make it a matching set.”

The encounter ends with a taser in Hux’s ribs and blood wept from a ruined eye socket.

***

By his second year, Hux has logged over a thousand hours in solitary and gained an additional twenty years to his sentence. He has no regrets. Instead, he basks in the peace his reputation has earned him, an honor won through blood and scars. He’s been stabbed twice, choked more times than he can remember, and has mutilated his fair share of inmates in return.

The others have learned to give him space, but violence is the only constant in the prison, and Hux is no exception. When the riots start, he uses the opportunity to address a few administrative complaints.

The guard’s jaw cracks beneath his fist, scarred knuckles on stubble. He doesn’t wait for the man to recover, cracking his skull against the wall with a tight grip in his hair. Again and again, he beats the dazed face into cement, high on adrenaline-fueled rage. It’s not his first scuffle with a guard, but it’s the first time he kills one.

They beat him hard enough that he winds up in medical, his arm in a cast and stitches on his face.

***

Since his incarceration, Hux has had a total of three cellmates. They all end up transferred, unable to handle the volatile moods and brutality that follows. Hux doesn’t start many fights, but neither does he avoid them. He’s not the strongest in the system or even the most intimidating. His success is based on calculating intellect and a ferocious survival drive. He fights dirty, nails and teeth and crude weapons thrust into soft spots, and has long learned how to take a punch. No slight goes unpunished, no wrong untended.

When he wakes to his first cellmate climbing on top of him, pants down and dick out, he doesn’t hesitate. He spends six days in solitary for the makeshift shiv, but the punishment is worth the curdled scream and splash of blood as his knife embedded deep in the other man’s groin.

His next cellmate tries to steal his cigarettes and gets a broken nose for the trouble. The smell of burning flesh lingers even after they transfer, the scorched crackle of a hand-turned ashtray enough to make Hux smile.

He isn’t surprised when, after his third casualty, the warden decides to remove the problem at its source.

***

The new prison is maximum security, equipped to handle violent inmates at their worst. Hux spends his first week in solitary, a carry-over from his last facility, and is unimpressed to find the experience isn’t very different. One prison is like another, a drab, dreary world of grey stone and churning tempers.

They lead him to his room, cuffed and patted down, to a chorus of jeers from his neighbors. Blank-faced and unafraid, Hux goes as instructed, ignoring the catcalls and rattled bars. Let them underestimate him. It’s a mistake they’ll only make once.

A quick glance when they open the door confirms the cell is similar to the one he had before, a cramped and sterile space with a bunk bed and small desk. He waits patiently, holding out his wrists, as the guards free him from the cuffs. His books should arrive soon, though he doesn’t expect his cigarettes to follow. He’ll have to start over here, a thought that doesn’t bother him as much as it should.

The smell of smoke is what first alerts him. Tensing, unused to being caught off guard, Hux turns towards the figure stretched out on the lower bunk. He’s not sure how he missed the man, large as he is, lounging like a lazy panther in the room. His dark hair is pulled back in a topknot, his arms covered with ink. The designs crawl beneath his jumpsuit and reappear again on his throat, above which a scruffy jaw relaxes in an exhale. 

Awareness shivers up Hux’s spine, the click of the lock as the guards close the door unnaturally loud. Predatory eyes land on him with a wicked gleam, their owner dragging another puff on his cigarette, sizing him up. Everything about the man reads as dangerous, from his deceptively casual posture to the broad frame brimming with strength.

Watching him, wary but refusing to be intimidated, Hux breaks the silence, “What’s your name?”

A slow, shark-like smirk makes his stomach tighten, a confusing mix of apprehension and arousal.

“Ren,” The man purrs, “Kylo Ren.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy what you've read? Feel free to [send a prompt](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/ask) of your own!
> 
> [kink prompts](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/145029608715/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill) / [au prompts](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/173073253065/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-shortau%20prompts)  
> Comment prompts also welcome. c:


	21. student/teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kylo is an MMA fighter, Phasma is his coach, and Hux is the yoga instructor with an ass that just won’t quit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the student/teacher au! I had way too much fun with this idea tbh  
> (also holy crap, you guys are awesome ;u; thank you for all of your comments and support! i'm so glad people are enjoying these)

We need to work on your flexibility,” Phasma begins, bearing her weight down. Grunting, face smashed into a gym mat, Kylo tries to break her hold. He gets a cluck of tongue for his effort, Phasma pressing her elbow harder into his back. Red-faced and sweaty, Kylo tries not to breathe too deeply, overwhelmed by the smell of socks and bleach. **  
**

It’s not until he’s standing around the locker rooms afterward, wet from a shower and chugging down water, that it occurs to Kylo that he might have missed something. He watches Phasma approach with mild amusement, scattering a group of sheepish fighters, who scramble to cover themselves despite the trainer’s disregard.

“Here.” Blinking down at the crisp business card, Kylo takes it, shooting Phasma a questioning look. His confusion only mounts as he reads the neat lettering.

“ _Yoga?_ ” Whatever expression he’s wearing must broadcast his incredulity, because Phasma scowls, folding her arms.

“Don’t argue with me on this, Ren. Your flexibility needs work and it’s holding you back.”

She’s not wrong, and as his coach, she obviously only has his best interests in mind. Still.

“… _Yoga?_ ”

Phasma snorts, alarmingly blasé, and Kylo’s dread gains traction,  “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“I get Yoga can be useful, but…I’m an MMA fighter, not a soccer mom looking to burn off a few calories.”

He really should have seen the punch coming. Yelping, Kylo scowls, rubbing at his now smarting shoulder. Phasma hits him again.

“Don’t be offensive,” Her glare silences his retort before it can form, as does the uncalled for twist to his nipple, “Yoga can be extremely athletic and Hux is the best. I had to pull a lot of strings to get you into this class, so don’t fuck it up.”

Rolling his eyes, but sensing defeat, Kylo considers the card again. He sighs.

“Fine.”

***

Monday morning, bright and early, finds Kylo entering yet another gym. Although Phasma had vouched for Hux’s credibility, he’s pleasantly surprised by the lack of incense and bonsai plants. The studio is an open-plan, with weight machines on one end and a mat area on the opposite. Large floor to ceiling mirrors line the walls and already a group of people is setting up, rolling out their gear and warming up.

Kylo wanders over cautiously, claiming his spot with the resigned air of a man at the gallows. Unlike the gym, his classmates are exactly what he expected: well to do housewives in cosmetic warpaint and trendy college girls, disheveled hippies with wooden beads and guys in bandanas. There are others, though, scattered throughout that give him pause. A few well-muscled men in football tanks and a girl with her soccer team scrawled across a shirt. An elderly couple and even a boy Kylo recognizes from the punching bags at his own gym. People continue to file in as the hour nears and Kylo lets the variety soothe his nerves. He relaxes, sprawling on the mat Phasma made him bring.

Every now and then someone looks his way, curious or flirty. The attention is familiar, easing his equilibrium until a smug smirk begins to form. By the time they’re ready to begin, Kylo has his confidence back, his worries boiled down to the potential boredom of a wasted morning.

And then the instructor walks in and Kylo realizes he’s got bigger problems.

Shapely legs wrapped in leggings and a round, perky ass greet them with a curt hello. The man they belong to is lean and pale, his red hair loose and soft. He approaches the front of the room, scanning a clipboard, and even in his baggy tank top, Kylo can tell his waist is small enough for his hands to span.

Jesus Christ.

He’s staring, Kylo knows he’s staring, but he can’t stop. Not even when the man catches him in the act, lifting a cool brow. The blood not rushing to his cock reroutes to his face, yet all he can do is watch, dumbstruck, as Hux begins instructing them.

“I see there are some new faces today. Welcome. We’ll begin with a few warm-up stretches.”

He’s all business, a sex dream contained in aloof professionalism, and Kylo is already half-hard. All of his doubts and cynicism get swept away beneath the effort it takes to get in the positions they’re being walked through. They’re simple, or they would be if he wasn’t stuck trying to keep his dick in line while executing them. Gritting his teeth, Kylo wills his body to calm, grateful that at least he’d taken a place toward the back.

Briefly, Hux flicks a glance in his direction, the corner of his mouth curling faintly. It’s maddening, especially when his voice remains calm and smooth, guiding them through the pre-workout. Eventually, the routine draws Kylo in, helping him focus.

Except then Hux begins his own set of stretches, instructing the class by example, only to continue on when it’s clear they’re set. It’s almost pornographic, the way he bends and twists, his body supple and limber. Kylo’s mouth is dry, his muscles burning with the unfamiliar stretch. Watching Hux, it’s too easy to imagine all the other ways he could pose, all the scenarios his flexibility could benefit, arching on Kylo’s cock.

This isn’t in a yoga class - it’s an obscene circle of hell.

Kylo reminds himself to send Phasma a ‘thank you’ card, preferably after he punches her in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy what you've read? Feel free to [send a prompt](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/ask) of your own!
> 
> [kink prompts](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/145029608715/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill) / [au prompts](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/173073253065/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-shortau%20prompts)  
> Comment prompts also welcome. c:


	22. vegas wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere between the drinking and business conference, the cocktails and diminishing personal space, they get a hotel suite.  
> (Vegas wedding AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this glorious prompt from an anon!
>
>> anonymous asked:  
> Kylux prompt: vegas au where they do an impromptu marriage and hux spends his whole wedding night taking load after load in his ass. Bonus if hux decides to wear a slutty wedding dress for the occasion
> 
> I wasn’t able to get Hux in a slutty wedding dress, but I did put him in lingerie so I hope it still satisfies (i mean…can u [imagine](https://78.media.tumblr.com/125d025e3f63edaaa3d4c1bbca813126/tumblr_o7mtv0XZar1uuv5ybo1_1280.jpg). i’m [dead](https://78.media.tumblr.com/58b72a9e95b119a4920f8f111ccae959/tumblr_o7mtv0XZar1uuv5ybo2_1280.jpg))

They stumble into the chapel breathless and giddy, muffling their drunken laughter between linked hands. Kylo isn’t sure where his t-shirt came from, but he’s almost positive it’s the right sort of clothing for a wedding. It does, after all, have a tuxedo on it. His actual blazer is draped over Hux’s shoulders, three sizes too big, and besides his undergarments, is the only thing the redhead is wearing. They make a fitting pair, and Kylo stops halfway down the aisle to initiate a sloppy kiss. His head spins, woozy on alcoholic lust. He licks the taste of tequila from Hux, grabbing a handful of ass, and is rewarded with a muffled groan.

Afterward, he only remembers his marriage in snatches. Hux’s hand in his own and the excited thump of his pulse. The way the light catches on the sequins of the minister’s suit. There were witnesses provided by the chapel and signatures in a book, but both become shadows to the flush on Hux’s face, the heat of his skin and the softness of his mouth. They pick out rings from a velvet box, Kylo pressed behind Hux to bite bruises on his throat and repeat vows to the soft croon of Blue Moon.

***

Somewhere between the drinking and business conference, the cocktails and diminishing personal space, they get a hotel suite. The tension they’ve been building has grown white-hot, making it difficult for Kylo to concentrate as he stands at the concierge desk. He’s rock hard, his dick aching, and Hux is a warm presence at his side, distracting him with blown pupils and soft lips. They’re both inebriated, but the clerk doesn’t even blink, checking them in with ease. Kylo barely pays attention to the exorbitant fee, too busy spreading his palm across Hux’s lower back. His hand nearly spans the other’s waist, and even beneath the layers of his suit, Kylo can feel Hux shiver. He hands over his card without looking, his pulse racing.

They barely make it to the room.

***

Midnight sees them wandering the strip, drinking their way through lavish casinos and high-end clubs. Hux has a large bruise on his throat and a sway to his walk, making it difficult for Kylo to keep his hands to himself. They gamble and dance, throw back shots and kiss. Struck by inspiration, Kylo adds a limo service to his growing bill, with leather seats and tinted windows they don’t bother rolling down. The carpet is soft and beige, cushioning Hux’s knees as he sinks between Kylo’s legs and goes down on him.

“God, fuck,” Kylo groans, thrusting between slack lips, and drops his head back against the seat. His orgasm is drawing near, tightening in his gut as Hux hums, relaxing his throat with a choke. It’s obscene and perfect, punching the air from Kylo’s lungs.

He cums all over Hux’s face, who catches his lower lip between his teeth to lick away the taste.

Kylo might be a little in love.

***

With rings on their fingers and heat in their eyes, they make it back to the hotel suite. Leaning against the door, Kylo watches Hux as he wanders inside, his eyes glued to the swell of his ass. The lingerie had been another drunken purchase, made after a sly remark about needing a bride to match his groom. Even now, he’s not sure where Hux’s suit is, the one he was wearing when Kylo had the gall to test his merit, but he thinks it might still be in a dressing room, another casualty to the night. His own blazer falls to the floor in a rumpled heap, sliding off pale shoulders as Hux crawls onto the bed. On hands and knees he goes, pretty and sleek, his body arched in a lazy slide.

Despite his recent orgasm, Kylo’s cock pulses at the sight, his mouth run dry. He prowls after him, only pausing long enough to pull off his shirt. Beneath him, Hux flattens onto his stomach, his head pillowed on folded arms, and lets his eyes flutter shut. He looks decadent, an offering laid out on their marriage bed in lace and silk. Groaning, Kylo follows him down, pushing open shapely thighs to make a place for himself. He settles there, thumbs stroking softly, and watches the flimsy panties ride high. Unable to help himself, Kylo leans down, sinking a bite into a pale ass cheek. Soothing the sting with his tongue, he squeezes the curve of it, spreading Hux until he can make out the flushed pout of his entrance through the lace. 

A quiet sound escapes the redhead and Kylo smirks, stroking the back of his knuckles along the top of a thigh high. He hitches him back onto his knees, lifting his ass into the air, and turns Hux’s next breath into a moan when he runs the flat of his tongue over the lace. Pressing his face deep, he licks at the delicate flesh, wetting him through the fabric. Suddenly ravenous, Kylo opens his mouth wide, pressing against tight muscle, soft and hot from their earlier fuck. For long minutes, he laps at him, teasing the rough lace against tender skin, before greed gets the better of him. He pushes the panties to the side for direct access, making Hux gasp, shivery and needy. He tries to spread his legs wider, his hands fisting the sheets. Growling, Kylo opens him with sloppy kisses and broad strokes, his tongue pushing into fluttering heat until his jaw aches and both of them are wet with spit. Only then does Kylo pull back, grabbing blindly for the discarded bottle of lube, his other hand a vice on Hux’s hip. By the time he’s buried three fingers to the knuckle, Hux’s thighs are littered with bruises and bites, trapped by the panties Kylo has pulled down them. They’re both sweating, flushed with need, and Kylo rips open his pants, his cock jutting free heavy and thick.

When at last he slides inside, Hux is open and eager, squirming back on his cock, desperate for more. Kylo grants it to him, fucking forward until the entirety of him has disappeared. His eyes roll back, pleasure sparking through his entire body at the tight heat milking him.

He barely gets a hand on Hux before the redhead cums, voice twisted on a sob and body bowed.

***

They consummate their marriage twice more before exhaustion claims them, their bodies demanding rest. It’s not long until Kylo wakes to his husband seated above him, sinking down onto his cock. In return, he leaves black and blue fingerprints, bracing his feet to meet each downward slide with vigor. Head thrown back, Hux rides each wave, his thighs flexing as they pin Kylo down and bring them both to the edge.

A half-hour later, the pleasure borders on pain when Kylo gets Hux pinned to the wall, his pace brutal and agonizing. It’s too close to their last orgasm, too sensitive and bright. Nails rake down his back as Hux tries to weather it, whimpering hoarsely even while he clenches tight, trying to keep Kylo locked inside. Hissing, Kylo pounds into him with enough force to rattle the picture frames, driving the other up the wall with each violent thrust.

***

Eventually, fucked out and woozy, they eat room service on the floor, pouring vodka into orange juice and pulling apart waffles with their fingers. It’s sticky sweet, caught between their mouths as they kiss. In the bathroom, there’s a hot tub large enough to hold a small army, and afterward, they soap down and sink into it with matching sighs. It’s nice to be clean and even nicer to soak. They let the hot water ease sore muscles, loosening knots until they’re both relaxed.

Reinvigorated, Kylo bends Hux over the edge of the bath, their fingers threaded together, and mounts him slowly. Their fucking is languid and drowsy, Hux raw-hot around him. On their entwined fingers, their wedding bands gleam gently, a beacon in the haze.

***

Kylo re-enters the world slowly, his temples pounding, sending pain down his entire spine. Groaning, he tries to force open a gritty eye, cursing viciously when all that gets him is a blast of late afternoon light. Everything hurts, his muscles burning and brain throbbing. Even his dick chafes, making his legs jump each time he shifts. For a long moment, he merely lays where he is, wallowing in misery. At last, after a bracing clench of teeth, he finally manages to pry his lids apart, blinking at the ceiling.

Even from his sprawl, he can tell he’s slept most of the day away, the sun pouring in warm and deep. Fuck. For a moment, Kylo struggles to remember where he is, and how it is he ended up there. The night is a blank, lost to his rioting hangover.

A murmur nearby snaps him into full awareness. Tensing, Kylo tries not to panic, even while his heart jackhammers behind his ribs. Slowly, he glances down.

Curled against his side, Hux is still lost in the throes of sleep. Ruffled and soft, his face is peaceful, his lashes shadowed on his cheek and lips parted on gentle breath. He’s also completely naked, tucked under Kylo’s arm, and covered in the tell-tale sex marks.

Holy shit.

Piece by piece the night returns to him, filling in the gaps enough to turn his attention to the arm slung over his chest. Or more in point, to the gold band sitting on Hux’s finger.

Staring, caught in a stupor, Kylo unconsciously tightens his hold on the man curled into him. In response, Hux sighs, pressing closer. On cue, a riot on his nightstand jerks him back to attention. Now that he looks around, he can see more evidence of their revelry: crooked lampshades and scattered clothing, empty bottles and jarred furniture.

Groaning, headache all but tripling, Kylo reaches for his phone, still vibrating frantically. It takes a few swipes, but he finally fumbles it over, his eyes squinted at the screen. He’s not surprised to see the dozens of missed calls and messages or the explosion of social media notices.

Apparently, they hadn’t been shy.

With a grimace, Kylo chucks the device away again. He knows, eventually, that they’re going to have to talk about this. That decisions are going to need to be made and damage control run. But, for now. Well.

For now, he has a new husband and lavish honeymoon suite to use.

Rolling over, Kylo tucks Hux beneath him and closes his eyes. Everything else can wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy what you've read? Feel free to [send a prompt](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/ask) of your own!
> 
> [kink prompts](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/145029608715/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill) / [au prompts](http://h-uxed.tumblr.com/post/173073253065/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-shortau%20prompts)  
> Comment prompts also welcome. c:


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